THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

HARRY  MONTEFIORE  GOLDBERG 

PRESENTED  BY 
Josa  Goldberg 


V 


SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA 


BY 

• 

SOPHIE    SPARKLE. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


NEW  YORK: 
AMERICAN     NEWS     COMPANY, 

1873. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1873,  by 

THE  AMERICAN  NEWS  COMPANY, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


CONTENTS. 


PASK 

I.— MANAGING  A  HUSBAND,     .  .5 

II.— THE  RIVER,    .  13 

III. — ON  THE  PIAZZA,        .  •    17 

IV.— JANUARY  AND  MAY,      .  25 

V.— MAKING  HAY,     .        .                       .  .    30 

VI.— THE  WIDOW  DASH,       ....  36 

VII.— LE  BEAU  MONDE,      .  .    43 

VIII. — THE  MASQUERADE,        .  5° 

IX.— FORTUNE-HUNTERS,  .    57 

X.— "THE  GOOD  OLD  TIMES,"   .        .  65 

XI. — IN  THE  PARK,    .  •    73 

XII.— THE  GEYSER  SPRING,    .       .  79 

XIII.— AFTER  DINNER,  .    85 

Xiv. — ADONIS  AT  THE  BALL,  .  91 

XV. — Miss  AIRS,          ...  .97 

XVI.— THE  "  SARATOGA  DROOP,"   ...  105 

XVII.— A  RAINY  DAY,            .  . m 

XVIII.— OLD  BACHELORS,  .  .117 

XIX.— THE  BELLES, 125 

XX.— SNUBBING,        ......  i35 

XXI.— AMONG  THE  LIONS,            .       .        .  .146 

XXII.— Buzz, *53 

XXIIL— FLIRTATIONS,       .        .        .    .    .        .  .160 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XXIV.— WIDOWERS, 167 

XXV.— A  BACHELOR'S  TRUNKS,         .       .        .174 
XXVI.— THE  TOURNAMENT,    .  .180 

XXVII.— THE  RACES, 186 

XXVIII.— PLYING  THE  NEEDLE,  .       193 

XXIX.— HINTS  TO  HUSBANDS,       .        .        .        .201 

XXX.— ALL  ABOUT  BONNETS,         .       .        .       210 

XXXI.— A  NOVEL  DREAM,    .        .        .       .        .  225 

XXXII.— SUNDAY  AT  THE  SPRINGS,         .        .       232 

XXXIIL— A  DUEL, .238 

XXXIV. — AMONG  THE  LILIES,    .        .        .       .       245 
XXXV.— THE  FLUSH  OF  THE  LEAF,      .        .        .253 

XXXVI.— DEPARTURES, 261 

XXXVII.— THE  ADIRONDACK^, 269 

XXXVIII.— A  MORNING  RAMBLE,         .       .        .       275 

XXXIX.— ADIEUX, .  282 

XL. — LAKE  GEORGE,     .        .       .       .        .287 
XLL— • FORT  TICONDEROGA,       .        .       .       .297 

XLII. — NIAGARA  FALLS, 306 

XLIIL— BRASS  BUTTONS,          .       .        .        .       318 

XLIV.—"  EYES  RIGHT,"       .        .        .       .        .  330 

XLV.— FAREWELL  ! 334 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

THE  WIDOW  DASH, J.  Hyde. 

THE  GEYSER  SPRING,        .        .  D.  C.  Hitchcock. 

ARRAYED  FOR  THE  BALL,  R.  Lusk. 

Miss  AIRS, Matt  Morgan. 

MAKING  REPAIRS, R.  Lusk. 

THE  HATHORN  SPRING,    .        .        .        D.  C.  Hitchcock. 
THE  BACHELOR'S  TRUNK,    ....         R.  Liisk. 

AMONG  THE  LILIES, R.  Lusk. 

THE  EXCELSIOR  SPRING,     .        .        .      D.  C.  Hitchcock. 


"  Sparkling  and  bright,  in  liquid  light, 
Does  the  wine  our  goblets  gleam  in  ; 
With  hue  as  red  as  the  rosy  bed 
Which  a  bee  would  choose  to  dream  in. 

Then  drink  to-night,  with  hearts  as  light, 

To  loves  as  gay  as  fleeting, 

As  bubbles  that  swim,  in  the  beakers'  brim, 

And  part  on  the  lips  when  meeting." 

CHARLES  FENNO  HOFFMAN. 


SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 


I. 

MANAGING   A   HTTSBAND. 

IF  there  be  one  thing  more  exasperating  than 
another  in  this  wicked  world,  it  is  surely  an  ob 
durate  man !  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  that  most  men 
are  painfully  afflicted  in  this  manner.  For  six  mor 
tal  weeks  have  Madge  and  I  besieged  papa  to  allow 
us  to  spend  the  summer  season  at  that  Mecca  of 
fashionable  pilgrims — Saratoga.  But  the  dear  man, 
from  some  unaccountable  reason,  absolutely  refused. 
Nevertheless,  being  mere  women,  we  never  take 
"no"  for  an  answer,  and  set  about  making  the 
necessary  preparations,  such  as  ordering  new  dresses, 
and  reconsidering  old  ones,  while  mamma  under 
took  the  task  of  managing  her  refractory  lord  and 
master ! 

Husbands  usually  require  but  a  little  skilful, 
feminine  manoeuvring  to  make  them  walk  in  the 
desired  path,  and  if  ever  a  woman  had  the  art  of 


6  SPARKLES    FROM    SAEATOGA. 

managing  a  husband  at  the  tip  of  her  fingers'  ends, 
or,  still  more  effectually,  at  the  tip  of  her  tongue, 
that  woman  is  certainly  mamma.  Madge  and  I 
had  the  utmost  faith  in  her  ultimate  success ;  and  in 
proof  that  we  were  right  in  placing  a  high  estimate 
upon  her  virtues  as  a  coaxer,  here  we  are  fairly  in 
Saratoga  at  last,  with  Aunt  Prim  for  a  duenna. 
It  may  be  whispered  that  we  would  have  preferred 
mamma  in  this  interesting  rdle,  since  she  has  a  way 
of  viewing  things  blandly  through  her  dear  old 
spectacles,  while  Aunt  Prim  sees  the  world  quite 
differently  with  her  eye-glasses.  A  peep  through 
Aunt  Prim's  gold-rimmed  orbs  appears  to  have  the 
effect  of  casting  a  little  cloud  over  everything ;  of 
sprinkling  all  the  sweet  roses  of  life  with  drops  of 
vinegar-dew. 

This  is  Madge's  first  season  out,  and  Aunt  Prim 
will  have  enough  to  do  in  polishing  down  her 
boarding-school  ways,  and  preventing  her  from 
shocking  the  fastidious  world  with  her  outrt  extrav 
agances.  Madge  evidently  has  no  genius  for  fash 
ionable  conventialities ;  she  opens  her  black  eyes  wide 
at  everything  new  or  strange ;  claps  her  little  hands 
with  delight  when  she  is  pleased ;  is  a  little  thun- 

> 

der-storm  of  the  blackest  variety  when  she  is  angry ; 
and,  moreover,  says  just  what  she  thinks  to  every- 


MANAGING   A   HUSBAND.  7 

body;  which  latter  folly  would  surely  amaze  the 
philosopher  who  said  that  "  words  are  intended  to 
conceal  our  thoughts." 

As  for  myself,  two  years  in  society  are  quite 
sufficient  to  cure  one  of  all  such  nonsense,  and  I 
feel  prepared  to  meet  any  event  with  the  utmost 
sang  froid.  In  fact,  there  is  nothing  like  sailing 
through  life  with  a  placid  air;  nothing  like  pre 
serving  one's  equanimity  despite  the  fact  that  the 
world  turns  upside  down  every  twenty-four  hours. 
Aunt  Prim  herself  is  not  more  staid  in  her  deport 
ment  than  her  "  paragon  niece,"  as  she  is  pleased 
to  call  me. 

And  now  that  we  are  safely  ensconced  in  a 
charming  room  which  overlooks  Congress  Spring 
and  its  shady  park,  we  have  time  to  reflect  upon 
the  little  journey  we  have  just  made,  and  to  laugh 
again  over  its  amusing  incidents. 

There  was  the  boat  crowded  with  pleasure-seek 
ers;  there  was  the  pleasant-looking  matron  with 
five  fair  daughters;  and  there  the  haughty  belle 
who  smiled  a  sweet  adieu  to  an  admirer  who  re 
quested  her  to  think  of  him  while  she  was  gone, 
and,  when  the  poor  fellow  had  made  his  last  bow, 
she  turned  to  her  companion  -with  her  beautiful  lip 
curled  in  scorn,  and  exclaimed:  "Think  of  him! 


8  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

I  guess  I  have  something  else  to  think  of.  What 
conceited  beings  these  men  are ! " 

There  also  was  the  elderly  gentleman  with  two 
daughters,  who  created  much  amusement  by  his  odd 
comments  and  remarks.  The  daughters  were  fash 
ionably  dressed  girls,  evidently  just  from  board 
ing-school.  Papa  was  just  as  evidently  not  accus 
tomed  to  the  polite  usages  of  society,  but  had  the 
air  and  look  of  a  sea-faring  man  with  plenty  of 
money. 

"  I  declare,"  said  this  pater  familias,  "  you  gals 
are  more  trouble  to  me  than  all  my  money.  Just  as 
if  York  wasn't  good  enough  for  you ;  but  you  must 
go  philandering  off  to  Saratogy,  just  to  make  a  show 
of  those  f rillamagigs  you've  wasted  a  month  over. 
I  tell  you  what,  you  don't  fool  your  pa  with  this 
kind  of  nonsense  much  longer." 

A  short  pause. 

"  Sarah  Jane,  where's  your  gloves  ? " 

"  In  my  pocket,"  replies  Sarah  Jane. 

"  That's  the  best  place  for  'em,  and  Polly,  if  you'd 
just  put  those  rats  and  mice  you've  tacked  on  to 
your  head  in  the  same  place,  you'd  show  that  you 
had  inherited  some  common -sense  at  least  from 
me." 

As  might  be  expected,  poor  Polly's  cheeks  were 


MANAGING   A   HUSBAND.  9 

suffused  with  painful  blushes  at  this  unexpected 
disclosure  of  the  falseness  of  her  puffs  and  curls. 

But  young  people  nowadays  are  not  overblessed 
with  reverence,  and  so  Polly  soon  recovered  from 
her  confusion,  and  gently  replied : 

"Now,  pa,  if  you'd  take  out  those  teeth  you 
bought  at  Dr.  Hadden's  last  week,  you  wouldn't 
talk  §Q plainly" 

Pa's  vivacity  subsided  at  this,  and  he  buried 
himself  in  his  evening  paper. 

Aunt  Prim  managed  to  secure  a  state-room,  while 
Madge  and  I  were  obliged  to  content  ourselves  with 
berths  in  the  ladies'  cabin. 

There  were  three  in  a  tier — one  for  Madge,  one 
for  myself,  and  the  third,  which  was  the  upper 
berth,  was  allotted  to  an  enormously  stout  lady. 
The  stout  lady  looked  at  her  check  which  bore  the 
number  25,  and  then  at  the  berth  which  bore  the 
same  number,  with  evident  dismay. 

How  was  she  to  reach  that  elevated  couch  ?  It 
was  too  much  to  ask  of  any  mortal  of  her  ample 
proportions ! 

"  Yours  truly  "  having  secured  the  berth  below, 
looked  at  the  stout  lady  also  in  a  state  of  dismay. 
Good  Heavens !  Timber  and  upholstery  are  not 

equal  to  everything,  and  what  if  that  berth  should 
1* 


10          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

give  way  beneath  the  fat  lady,  and  bury  "yours 
truly  "  in  oblivion  ? 

The  mere  thought  of  such  a  mishap  caused  a  cold 
shudder.  The  only  resource  was  to  offer  the  fat 
lady  the  lower  couch,  which  she  gratefully  accepted. 

Now  I  cannot  see  why  people  object  to  upper 
berths.  My  advice  is,  to  always  get  as*  near  heaven 
as  possible  in  this  wicked  world.  In  the  upper  berth 
you  have  at  least  five  feet  of  breathing  room  above 
you,  and  can  lie  for  hours  looking  dreamily  out  of 
the  open  window,  admiring  the  ever-changing  pan 
orama  of  Nature,  while  your  neighbor  below,  shut  up 
in  a  good-sized  coffin  with  a  side  plank  taken  out 
for  air,  becomes  a  prey  to  doleful  dreams.  Swiftly 
we  glided  past  the  Highlands  covered  with  dark 
verdure,  and  looking  weird  and  solemn  in  the 
moonlight.  Past  little  towns  and  rural  cities,  built 
at  the  base  of  a  mountain,  or  high  up  on  some  hill 
side.  Past  quaint  old  castles,  which  carried  one's 
thoughts  far  off  to  the  poetic  banks  of  the  Rhine. 
Past  many  a  spot  renowned  in  legendary  and  his 
toric  lore — on,  still  on,  we  glided  up  the  noble 
Hudson,  which  hurried  by  us  to  mingle  its  placid 
waters  with  the  distant  sea. 

Every  blue  wave  laughed  and  twinkled  in  the 
moonlight,  sporting  with  the  silvery  rays  like  a  gay 


MANAGING    A    nUSBAND.  11 

coquette  with  her  lover.  One  by  one  the  stars  came 
out,  but  growing  pale  with  envy  before  the  glorious 
lustre  of  the  full  moon,  they  drew  a  misty  veil  of 
clouds  over  their  faces,  and  left  sweet  Luna  the 
undisputed  Queen  of  Night. 

The  principal  solace  amid  the  discomforts  of 
travelling,  is  to  laugh  at  the  lugubrious  faces  and 
woeful  complaints  of  others. 

It  is  so  refreshing  to  one's  tired  senses,  when 
roused  from  your  dreams  at  the  first  peep  of  day  by 
the  bustle  which  announces  that  you  have  reached 
port,  to  emerge  from  your  state-room  with  a  discon 
solate  air,  supremely  miserable — with  your  eyes  only 
half  open  and  your  head  dizzy  with  the  motion  of 
the  boat — it  is  so  refreshing  to  look  around  you  and 
remark  that  everybody  else  seems  to  be  equally 
afflicted  with  yourself.  One  may  soon  forget  his  own 
troubles  in  making  himself  merry  over  others.  Per 
haps  the  most  amusing  affair  of  the  morning  was  that 
of  the  stout  old  lady  who  had  just  seated  herself 
at  the  breakfast  table,  and  was  about  to  partake  of 
the  savory  viands  before  her,  when  lo !  the  thrilling 
cry  of  "  all  aboard  "  startled  her  sensitive  nerves. 

With  a  most  pathetic  look  of  despair  she  seized 
her  umbrella,  little  bag  and  big  bag,  lap-dog,  and 
sundry  other  parcels  by  far  too  numerous  to  men- 


12  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

tion,  and  hastened  as  fast  as  her  physical  capacity 
would  allow  her  to  catch  the  train. 

From  the  expression  of  that  matron's  face  one 
might  well  have  inferred  that  the  little  mishap  of 
a  "  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the  lip "  is  one  of  the 
most  trying  grievances  in  the  world. 

And  so  at  last  we  reached  the  goal  of  our  summer 
dreams — Saratoga.  Sitting  on  the  piazza  and  watch 
ing  the  throng  that  comes  and  goes,  catching  glimpses 
of  well-remembered  faces,  clasping  the  hands  of  old 
friends  lost  sight  of  since  last  summer ;  all  this  is 
like  the  re-perusal  of  some  beautiful  half -forgotten 
story,  or  the  realization  of  a  fascinating  dream. 

The  streets  are  gay  with  brilliant  equipages  and 
crowds  of  well-dressed  people,  who,  having  nothing 
else  to  do,  laugh,  and  chat,  and  spend  their  money 
in  the  pleasantest  manner  possible. 

The  shoddyites  have  nearly  all  disappeared.  One 
hears  no  longer  the  rustle  of  pretentious  silks  and 
satins  at  the  breakfast  table,  nor  are  weary  eyes 
diverted  from  the  morning  papers  by  the  glitter  of 
diamond  necklaces  and  bracelets.  Only  the  flashing 
of  bright  eyes  is  allowable  at  so  early  an  hour  in 
the  morning — that  is,  if  eyes  can  be  bright  that 
know  no  sleep  until  the  "  wee  sma'  hours "  of  the 
night  have  come. 


THE   RIVER. 


THE  one  thing  about  Saratoga  which  would  doubt 
less  prove  the  greatest  attraction  to  a  New  Yorker, 
is  that  early  in  the  season  it  is  delightfully  cool. 
Too  cool  perhaps  for  those  delicate  individuals  who 
cannot  endure  a  whiff  of  unadulterated  fresh  air — 
rheumatic  old  bachelors  and  fidgety  old  maids  who 
aspire  to  romance  upon  the  piazzas  these  lovely  star 
lit  nights,  and  yet  who  are  forever  haunted  with 
a  secret  dread  of  the  night  air ! 

Even  Miss  Flimsy  does  not  care  to  crush  or  hide 
her  airy  costume  beneath  a  heavy  wrap — and  so  she 
forsakes  the  piazza  at  an  early  hour  for  the  gay 
ball-room,  where  one  may  whirl  for  hours  in  the 
giddy  dance  without  expiring  from  the  heat. 

Perhaps  we  are  not  yet  quite  ready  for  Saratoga 
— for  to  enjoy  a  season  at  the  Springs  there  is  some 
thing  more  to  be  done  than  wardrobes  to  be  replen 
ished  and  trunks  filled  to  their  utmost.  People  who 
come  here  should  be  prepared  to  catch  the  inspi- 


14:  SPAKKLES  FKOM  SARATOGA. 

ration  of  the  hour ;  free  from  all  care,  light-hearted, 
willing  and  eager  to  enjoy  life — to  sip  the  foam 
when  at  its  whitest — to  catch  the  bubble  while  yet 
the  rainbow  glistens  upon  it. 

A  heart  that  is  ready  for  all  this  is  ready  for 
Saratoga.  To  be  moved  and  swayed  by  the  subtle 
charm  which  wooes  the  world  hither;  to  feel  the 
Circean  spell  which  throws  a  rose-tinted  enchant 
ment  over  all ;  to  look  upon  life  as  a  butterfly  with 
golden  wings,  and  to  ask  for  no  more — this  is  to 
enjoy  life  at  a  watering-place. 

But  the  spell  of  the  river,  up  which  we  sailed  on 
our  way  hitherward,  the  beautiful,  blue,  flowing 
river,  is  yet  upon  us.  The  river,  with  its  deep 
waters  flowing  onward  to  the  sea,  dark  and  dreamy 
with  the  night  shadows  upon  it,  and  here  and  there 
twinkling  with  the  many-colored  watch  lights,  and 
the  golden  lamps  which  glitter  like  beacons  on 
the  shore ;  the  river,  with  its  long  line  of  towering 
hills  and  mountains  holding  endless  communion  with 
the  skies ;  its  stern  and  frowning  walls  of  rock ;  its 
groves  and  woods  of  ever-living  green ;  its  quiet 
towns  lying  low  in  the  valleys;  its  picturesque 
homes  nestled  like  eagles'  nests  far  up  amid  the 
mountain's  crags,  and  all  these  slumbering  so  peace 
fully,  all  wrapped  in  quiet  dreams,  half  in  the 


THE   KIVEE.  15 

shadow  and  half  reflecting  the  light  of  the  quiet 
stars  which  seem  so  very  far  away. 

Can  the  Ehine,  the  far-famed,  beautiful  Ehine, 
with  its  crumbling  castles,  its  pictured  scenes  of 
beauty,  and  its  time-worn  legends,  more  fully  en 
thrall  the  heart  and  hold  it  captive  with  a  wizard's 
spell  than  our  own  noble  and  picturesque  Hudson  ? 
And  thus,  perhaps,  it  is  the  spell  of  the  beautiful 
river  which  makes  our  first  impression  of  Saratoga 
this  summer  very  much  like  that  of  quaffing  a 
glass  of  champagne  after  all  the  sparkle  has 
departed. 

Something  of  the  old  charm  seems  lacking ;  some 
thing  of  the  old  fascination  gone. 

Where  are  those  who  have  made  this  fashionable 
resort  so  delightful  in  past  seasons  ? 

Where  the  bright  eyes,  the  laughing  lips,  the  inter 
esting  faces  which  once  to  look  upon  was  to  have  a 
sweet  memory  of  forever — the  beautiful,  the  witty, 
and  the  gay,  who  last  summer  thronged  the  parlors 
and  piazzas  of  Saratoga  ? 

Ah,  those  we  learn  to  love  and  those  who  love  us 
glide,  one  by  one,  away  from  our  sight,  and  new 
friendships  are  forever  taking  the  places  of  the  old, 
like  the  restless  waves  of  the  sea,  which  come  and 
go,  and  are  changing  forever. 


16  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

One  peculiarity  of  Saratoga  friendship  is  that 
amid  the  brilliancy  of  a  watering-place  life,  new 
friendships  catch  the  sun  of  love  quicker  and 
strengthen  into  warm  attachments  sooner  than  in 
the  quieter,  more  shaded  walks  of  existence. 

But  the  people,  ah!  the  people!  To  one  who 
has  few  friends,  there  cannot  be  a  lonelier  place  than 
this.  To  drift  about,  a  solitary  bark  amid  a  sea 
of  strange  faces,  is  to  know  the  bitterness  of  solitude. 

In  a^l  nature  there  is  no  solitude,  no  feeling  of 
desolation  like  that  which  sweeps  over  the  lonely 
heart  amid  a  throng  of  strangers. 

The  birds,  the  trees,  the  flowers,  valleys  and  moun 
tains,  all  assimilate,  all  harmonize  with  the  heart  of 
man — and  no  such  feeling  of  loneliness  steals  into 
the  soul  as  that  which  often  comes  to  the  solitary 
being  in  the  great  throng. 

Life  at  Saratoga  may  well  be  compared  to  a  bub 
ble — a  beautiful  bubble  with  all  the  bright  colors  of 
the  rainbow  shifting  over  it ;  a  bubble  radiant  with 
light  and  beauty,  but  a  hollow  bubble  after  all. 

And  how  the  world,  like  a  little  child  at  play, 
loves  to  amuse  itself  with  bubbles — with  hollow 
bubbles  that  burst  in  a  flash  of  time,  and  leave  an 
empty  void  in  the  place  but  a  moment  before 
radiant  with  sunlight ! 


III. 

ON   THE   PIAZZA. 

Music  in  the  morning  inspires  one  to  fresh  activ 
ity;  it 'incites  to  new  energy;  to  noble  impulses, 
and  to  lofty  aims.  If  one  could  be  always  awak 
ened  from  slumber  by  sounds  sweet  or  melodious, 
the  day  would  dawn  so  beautifully  and  so  gently 
that  care  and  grief  would  hardly  venture  to 
intrude;  and  if  they  did,  could  be  easily  ban 
ished. 

Breakfast  is  over;  and  the  band  is  playing  in 
spiring  music  under  the  trees  in  the  grove.  The 
devotees  of  the  various  springs  have  returned  from 
their  daily  pilgrimage,  apparently  refreshed  and 
invigorated,  for  faith  is  able  to  work  wonders ; 
young  belles  appear  in  the  most  charming  toilettes, 
and  their  bright  eyes  sparkle  as  mischievously  under 
their  coquettish  little  hats,  or  dart  shy  glances  at 
you  from  beneath  their  pink  or  blue  parasols,  as 
though  they  knew  nothing  of  late  hours  or  the  glare 
of  gaslight. 

Young  gentlemen,  faultlessly  attired,  with  fresh 


18  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

rose-buds  in  their  buttonholes,  and  perhaps  faded 
ones  upon  their  breasts,  renew  the  whispered  compli 
ments  they  uttered  the  evening  before  beneath  the 
stars,  or  when  whirling  through  the  dance,  under 
the  glittering  lights  of  the  ball-room.  Elderly  ladies, 
with  their  faces  discreetly  veiled,  and  always  car 
rying  the  inevitable  morning  parasol,  chat  pleasant 
ly  together,  and  make  caustic  remarks  upon  the  scan 
dalous  flirtations  of  the  previous  evening,  which  had 
been  indulged  in  by  the  frivolous  young  maidens  of 
the  day,  and  mourn  over  the  degeneracy  of  the  age. 

But  is  not  love  and  romance  both  beautiful  and 
allowable  in  youth  ? 

And  is  old  age  itself  quite  exempt  from  the  influ 
ence  of  the  sly  god  Cupid  ? 

And  is  the  mask  of  youth  which  old  age  endeavors 
in  these  "  degenerate  days  "  to  wear,  either  beautiful 
or  wise  ? 

If  the  fashionable  young  ladies  of  the  present  time 
would  have  shocked  their  feminine  ancestors  of  lono* 

to 

ago  by  their  worldly  ways,  I  am  sure  some  of  the 
fashionable  old  ladies  of  to-day  would  have  fright 
ened  them  out  of  their  senses ! — not  by  their  natural, 
but  by  their  artificial,  comeliness  ! 

This  is  one  of  the  lessons  one  cannot  help  learning 
upon  the  piazza. 


ON    THE    PIAZZA.  19 

Another  reflection  is,  that  the  evening  is  kindlier 
to  poor  humanity  than  the  morning. 

Looking  well  by  gaslight,  and  looking  well  in  the 
broad,  unsparing  light  of  day,  are  two  different 

things. 

O 

But  a  rose  is  always  a  rose  ! — whether  looking  up 
to  catch  the  warm  beams  of  the  morning  sun,  and 
drinking  in  its  fervid  rays  with  joy,  or  sleeping 
placidly  in  the  moonlight,  witjj,  the  glittering  dew- 
drops  on  its  bosom. 

So  beauty  is  always  beautiful,  and  gathers  new 
charms  from  every  hour. 

But  when  Nature  relies  upon  art  to  make  her  ador 
able,  she  must  choose  her  lights  and  shadows..  And 
the  evening  is  kindlier  than  the  morning. 

The  music  is  certainly  charming — full  of  pathos 
and  sentiment — now  inspiring  one's  heart  with  glad 
ness,  and  now  soothing  the  soul  with  sweet  melan 
choly. 

Madge  says  that  she  would  like  to  dance  the  polka- 
redowa  with  Fitz  Hugh  over  the  smooth  walks  of 
the  grove,  if  no  one  were  looking  on.  But  I  should 
object  to  that  proceeding.  So  would  Aunt  Prim. 
That  Madge  is  an  incorrigible  girl ! 

Little  children,  with  their  golden  locks  flying  un 
fettered  in  the  breeze,  go  skipping  over  the  piazza, 


20  SPAEKLES   FEOM   SAEATOGA. 

keeping  time  to  the  inspiring  strains  of  the  music 
with  their  tiny  feet. 

Young  belles,  arm  in  arm,  walk  up  and  down 
together,  rehearsing  the  conquests  of  the  last  even 
ing,  and  ransacking  their  dear  little  brains  for  new 
ideas  concerning  the  toilettes  of  to-night.  People 
who  imagine  that  fashionable  young  ladies  have 
nothing  to  do,  are  decidedly  mistaken.  Their  pro 
fession  is  heart  breaking,  and  they  pursue  it  with  the 
most  indomitable  zeal.  Young  gentlemen,  I  find, 
are  also  given  to  the  same  pursuit.  We  have  a  New 
York  exquisite  here  just  now,  who  changes  his  ap 
parel  five  times  a  day !  Just  think  of  the  precious 
hours  this  would-be  dazzling  youth  spends  before  the 
mirror !  His  wardrobe  is  inexhaustible,  and  com 
prises  everything  from  black  velvet  suits  to  those  of 
spotless  white  linen. 

I  think  he  is  in  love.  I  think  so  every  time  I  see 
him  promenading  this  piazza,  twirling  his  fanciful 
walking-stick  in  his  small,  white  finders.  But  I  am 

O  /  O 

quite  sure  that  this  young  man  is  hopelessly  in  love 
with  himself. 

Fitz  Hugh  declares  that  he  was  sent  up  here  by 
some  enterprising  tailor's  establishment. 

One  day's  study  of  human  nature  at  Saratoga  can- 


ON   THE   PIAZZA.  21 


not  fail  to  be  Loth  instructive  and  amusing,- and  that 
study  may  all  be  pursued  on  the  piazza. 

In  the  morning,  between  ten  and  twelve  o'clock, 
it  is  thronged  with  people. 

Reading  is  an  impossibility  at  this  hour.  Nothing 
more  than  skimming  over  the  pages  of  a  newspaper 
can  be  accomplished  in  the  way  of  literature.  As  the 
throng  passes  and  repasses,  the  great  book  of  Human 
Life  is  wide  open  before  you,  and  every  new  face  is 
a  fresh  and  curious  page  to  be  read. 

Reading  faces  is  like  reading  a  book  in  a  for 
eign  tongue  with  which  we  are  but  partially  ac 
quainted.  We  catch  a  general  idea  of  the  author's 
^  meaning,  but  lose  many  a  pearl  which  is  hidden  in 
the  vast  ocean  of  thought. 

From  twelve  o'clock  until'  four  in  the  afternoon, 
the  piazza  is  nearly  deserted.  The  noonday  siesta, 
embroidery,  and  dinner  intervene.  After  dinner  the 
band  again  assembles — this  time  on  the  piazza. 
Ever  since  the  days  of  Orpheus  has  music  wielded 
a  magic  charm  over  the  hearts  of  mortals,  luring 
them  whither  it  will ;  and  from  four  to  five,  after 
dinner,  is  a  witching  hour  at  Saratoga.  Every  one 
is  in  the  best  of  spirits ;  the  music  is  charming — 
now  full  of  mirth  and  gayety,  and  now  plaintive 
with  pathos  and  sentiment.  There  is  little  prome- 


22  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

nading,  and  every  seat  is  occupied.  Little  coteries 
are  formed,  and  sprightly  conversations  are  carried 
on,  through  which  ~bon  mots  flash  in  and  out  like 
meteors  darting  through  a  summer  sky. 

One  may  take  in  at  a  glance  people  of  almost 
every  clime.  Distinguished  men  of  letters  ;  eminent 
judges  and  lawyers  ;  military  heroes,  who  wear  their 
laurels  gracefully ;  divines,  who  are  not  too  near 
heaven  to  enjoy  the  charms  of  good  society  on  earth ; 
men  of  wit  and  men  of  fashion  ;  and  men  who  are 
neither  witty,  nor  learned,  nor  fashionable,  but  who 
were  expressly  created  to  fill  up  the  loop-holes  of  so 
ciety  intended  for  bores. 

There  are  also  beautif ul  and  fashionable  women. 
Women  elegantly  attired  ;  women  of  mind  and  cult 
ure  ;  and  women  with  •  pretty  faces,  whose  brains 
are  as  destitute  of  ideas  as  those  of  a  well-dressed 
doll.  There  are  women  of  fashion,  whose  whole 
souls  revolve  alternately  around  a  "  love  of  a  bon 
net  "  or  aparure  of  diamonds ;  and  women  of  noble 
aims  and  purposes,  whose  minds  are  not  utterly  ab 
sorbed  in  the  trivialities  of  dress.  There  are  wives 
who  have  not  an  idea  beyond  the  ipse  dixit  of  their 
august  (or  foolish)  husbands  ;  and  wives  who  are  at 
last  opening  their  eyes  to  the  fact  that  they  were  not 
created  to  be  the  mere  puppets  and  slaves  of  man. 


ON    THE   PIAZZA.  23 

All  these  make  up  a  little  world,  complete  in  it 
self,  in  which  one  may  while  the  hours  delightfully 
away. 

When  the  music  ceases,  it  is  en  regie  to  drive  to 
the  Lake,  or  wherever  pleasure  dictates,  or  to  go 
down  to  the  springs,  to  drink  the  waters  with  the 
last  sunbeams  sparkling  upon  them  ;  and,  after  that, 
all  is  quiet  until  eight  in  the  evening.  Then  the 
ladies  emerge  from  their  rooms  in  the  full  splendor 
of  evening  toilettes  ;  and  the  glittering  of /are  jewels 
rivals  the  flashing  of  bright  eyes.  Faces  which  are 
plain  and  ordinary  enough  in  the  daytime  seem  to 
have  stolen  an  added  charm  from  the  eventide,  as 
though  the  parting  day  had  left  its  blessing  upon 
them ! 

The  parlors  are  filled  with  a  gayly-dressed  and 
animated  throng.  Costly  robes  gleam  softly  beneath 
the  radiance  of  many  lamps,  and  rare  gems  which 
sparkle  on  every  side  reflect  the  rays  of  light  with  a 
liquid  fire. 

Leaving  the  crowded  parlors  for  the  piazza,  we 
find  the  throng  there  also.  But  the  soft  light  of  the 
stars  blends  with  the  glitter  of  the  lamps,  and  the 
young  new  moon  droops  low  in  the  west.  A  brilliant 
aurora  flashes  fitfully  across  the  northern  sky.  * 

No  hour  upon  the  piazza  is  like  to  this.     There  is 


24  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

music  ;  but  it  is  the  sound  of  the  piano  touched  by 
skilful  fingers,  or  the  voice  of  song  which  comes 
floating  from  the  parlor.  There  is  any  amount  of 
flirtation  and  love-making  going  on.  The  hour  has 
a  witchery  in  it,  and  few  hearts  can  resist  the  spell. 
Even  the  elderly  people  recall  faint  memories  of  the 
time  when  they,  too,  went  romancing  under  the  stars. 

With  pleasant  chatting  and  soft  laughter ;  with 
the  fluttering  of  fans  and  the  flashing  of  bright  eyes  ; 
with  whispered  words  of  love  which  only  the  evening 
zephyr  can  catch ;  under  the  starlight  and  the  moon 
light,  blended  with  the  soft  glimmer  of  the  lamps — 
the  evening  glides  swiftly  away. 

And  when  it  is  over,  the  piazza  is  once  more  de 
serted.  There  is  heard  no  more  the  sound  of  laugh 
ter  or  of  song  ;  the  lamps  are  put  out ;  and  the  stars, 
which  now  look  solemn  and  weird,  shed  a  cold  radi 
ance  over  all.  So  the  day  ends  at  Saratoga. 


IV. 

JANUARY    AND   MAT. 

THE  people  who  spend  the  most  money  at  Saratoga 
are  the  old  men  with  young  wives.  As  there  is  no 
end  to  the  caprices  of  an  old  man's  darling,  the  most 
lavisli  toilettes  are  displayed  to  a  gaping  world  by 
these  foolish  butterflies  of  fashion,  who  have  re 
nounced  love  and  romance  forever,  and  sold  them 
selves  for  gold  to  the  highest  bidder  in  Vanity  Fair. 

One  of  these  couples  attracts  particular  attention. 
The  husband  is  said  to  be  enormously  wealthy,  and 
no  lady  in  Saratoga  surpasses  his  wife  in  the  ele 
gance  of  her  toilettes.  Her  diamonds  are  of  the  first 
water,  and  sparkle  as  profusely  upon  her  lovely  per 
son  as  dew-drops  showered  upon  a  rose.  In  return 
for  all  the  luxuries  with  which  her  husband's  wealth 
provides  her,  this  young  wife  entertains  him  with  a 
ceaseless  prattling.  Her  glances  are  turned  neither 
to  the  riffht-nor  to  the  left,  but  alwavs  rest  dutifully 

O  tf  v 

upon  her  liege  lord.  Indeed,  she  could  not  do  other 
wise  if  she  wished,  for  his  admiring  eyes  are  con 
stantly  fixed  upon  her.  He  is  evidently  amused  and 


26  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

flattered  with  her  constant  attention  and  charming 
vivacity,  and  she  has  only  to  say,  "  My  dear ! "  to 
have  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  laid  at  her  feet. 

And  how  people  do  stare  at  this  bride  of  half  a 
hundred  millions !  Yerily  we  moderns  are  worse 
than  the  heathen  idolators  of  old.  We  do  not  build 
our  idols  of  solid  gold  as  did  they ;  we  care  not 
what  the  idol  itself  may  be,  so  that  it  is  covered 
with  gold,  we  fall  down  and  worship  it ! 

But  faugh !  Madge  says  that  she  would  rather 
bury  all  his  diamonds  and  riches  in  the  bottom  of 
the  sea  than  be  compelled  to  gaze  upon  and  to  enter 
tain  that  wizen-faced  old  man  all  day. 

Another  representative  of  the  January  and  May 
marriage,  is  Richard  Lambda,  a  youthful  veteran  of 
seventy,  with  a  wife  of  twenty.  Viewed  at  a  dis 
tance — for  sake  of  the  enchantment,  you  know — Mr. 
Richard  Lambda  might  pass  for  forty-five.  But 
Aunt  Prim  says  that  he  was  a  grown  man  when  she 
was  a  "  w~ee,  toddling  girl  in  pinafores  !  "  (Imag 
ine  Aunt  Prim  ever  toddling !)  But  this  gentleman 
is  marvellously  gotten  up.  His  hair  and  whiskers 
are  of  raven  blackness,  and  his  teeth  as  white  as 
pearls.  A  golden  eye-glass  dangles  from  his  vest, 
and  his  toilette  is  always  unexceptionable. 

And  what  matters  it  if,  in  reality,  he  is  bald,  tooth- 


JANUARY    AND    MAY.  27 

less,  almost  sightless,  brainless,  and  deaf  ?  N^importe 
tout  cela  !  Does  he  not  own  the  finest  house  in 
Gotham  ?  And  if  he  can  scarcely  walk,  can  he  not 
ride  in  a  gilded  coach  behind  the  fleetest  of  steeds  ? 
And  is  not  a  heap  of  gold  dollars  better  than  a 
split  sixpence — even  though  the  sixpence  was  broken 
in  a  love  troth  ?  So  at  least  decided  his  young  wife, 
who  is  said  to  have  married  this  man  to  please  her 
father,  and  almost  broke  her  heart  at  renouncing  a 
younger  and  dearer  lover. 

We  have  any  number  of  brides,  however,  with  young 
husbands.  One  of  them  sits  near  me  now,  elegantly 
attired,  and  dividing  her  attention  between  the  new 
ly  wedded  husband  and  a  pet  lap-dog  !  Really  the 
lap-dog  appears  to  possess  the  largest  share  of  its 
mistress'  affection ! 

In  whatever  costume  this  fair  bride  chooses  to 
array  herself,  the  lap-dog  is  decked  with  a  velvet 
ribbon  of  the  same  color  as  her  dress.  The  husband 
also  displays  a  cravat  of  the  same  hue.  What  a 
consultation  there  must  be  every  morning  about  dif- 
erent  shades  of  color,  in  this  happy  family  of  three ! 
Cousin  Madge  views  all  the  newly  married 
couples  with  curious  eyes  ;  and  she  detests  that  lap- 
dog.  I  cannot  refrain  from  whispering,  sub  rosa — 
for  what  woman  could  ever  yet  keep  a  secret,  or 


28  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

what  man  either  ? — that  Cousin  Madge  expects  to 
be  married  this  fall.  And  the  way  she  snubs  all 
the  young  gentlemen  who  are  inclined  to  proffer  her 
their  attentions  is  simply  terrific. 

The  most  elegant  man  in  the  world  would  scarcely 
be  able  to  win  a  second  thought  from  her,  just  now. 

Lovers  are  all  as  blind  as  bats.  They  see  no  one, 
and  heed  no  one,  except  the  beloved,  whom  they  in 
vest  with  every  fancied  charm. 

A  lover's  life  is  like  a  dream,  through  which  the 
people  of  the  world  move  like  phantoms,  and  the 
only  real  existence  is  that  of  the  chosen  one,  who  is 
worshipped  as  a  divinity,  and  whose  image  fills  heart 
and  mind  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  every  one  else. 

Ileigho  !  talking  about  lovers,  if  Fitz  Hugh  were 
only  here !  But  that  incomparable  youth  has  re 
turned  to  town,  and  three  long  days  must  elapse  ere 
w^  may  hope  once  more  to  behold  him. 

The  very  thought  overwhelms  me  with  despair. 
Not  a  single  exquisite  here  can  compare  with  Fitz 
Hugh. 

The  remembrance  of  that  absent  but  nnforgotten 
youth  dispels  all  my  sweet  fancies,  and  I  turn  for  con 
solation  to  contemplate  a  lock  of  his  lovely  hair. 
Perhaps  you  think  I  wear  it  upon  my  heart  ?  "What 
nonsense!  I  shall  send  it  to  a  chemist.  I  reallv 


JANUARY    AND    MAY.  29 

would  like  to  know  if  the  mellowness  of  his  brain  has 
anything  to  do  with  the  golden  tint  of  his  hair— or 
if  the  color  is  all  owing  to  the  barber's  skill.  I  scorn 
to  be  curious — but  this  is  merely  a  matter  of  science. 
Fitz  Hugh  is  quite  proud  of  his  golden  locks  and 
cerulean  eyes,  deepened  in  tint  by  the  cerulean  cra 
vat  he  generally  wears.  And,  entre  nous,  how 
charming  this  fascinating  youth  appeared  on  the 
morning  he  left,  dressed  in  a  coat  of  black  velvet, 
white  vest,  white  pantaloons,  a  love  of  a  white  hat 
resting  upon  his  golden  curls,  and  with  the  inevita 
ble  blue  cravat,  so  becoming  to  a  blonde !  Ah ! 
Fitz  Hugh  is  elegant !  But  this  is  entre  nous  ! 


V. 

MAKING   HAY. 

O  i  HAT  Madge !  that  terrible,  incorrigible  girl ! 
Madge  has  been  down  in  the  park  a-haying  !  Not  , 
"  making  hay  while  the  sun  shines,"  in  the  manner 
which  young  ladies  of  position  are  expected  to  do, 
during  a  season  at  Saratoga,  by  securing  an  eligible 
match — no — Miss  Madge  has  put  an  end  to  all  such 
hopes  by  her  mad-cap  caprices.  This  morning,  ar 
rayed  in  my  most  charming  toilette,  and  accompa 
nied  by  the  elegant  Fitz  Hugh — who  has  just  returned, 
I  walked  down  to  Congress  Park.  There  we  saw  a 
party  of  hay-makers  tossing  up  the  grass.  It  all 
looked  very  romantic  when  viewed  from  a  distance, 
but,  as  we  drew  nearer,  whom  should  we  recognize 
among  the  merry  hay-makers  but  Madge  and  that 
wild  Belle  Arden  from  Chicago,  with  Mr.  Cecil  and 
two  or  three  other  gentlemen.  Oh  dear  !  I  thought  I 

O  O 

sjiould  faint ;  Madge's  hat  was  lying  upon  the  grass 
—her  hair  was  flying  at  random,  and  her  cheeks  were 
such  a  vulgar  red  ! 

It  was  too  shocking !     They  were  all  busily  en- 


MAKING   HAY.  31 

gaged  in  tossing  the  hay,  as  though  they  thought  it 
fine  fun  ;  and  then,  to  cap  all,  when  I  looked  up  in 
Fitz  Hugh's  face,  expecting  to  find  a  sneer  upon  his 
aristocratic  features,  he  was  gazing  at  Madge,  and 
laughingly  declared  he  had  never  seen  her  look  so 
handsome  before  !  The  stupid  fellow  really  looked  as 
though  he  wished  to  join  the  party  !  I  was  just  upon 
the  point  of  fainting,  to  prevent  that  catastrophe, 
when  I  saw  Aunt  Prim  and  Bachelor  Grumpy  ap 
proaching  us.  When  the  former  looked  in  the  face 
of  her  paragon  niece,  she  knew  that  something  was 
wrong.  Unable  to  speak,  I  turned  my  eyes  in 
speechless  agony  toward  the  hay-makers.  Aunt  Prim 
followed  my  glance. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  they  are  having  a  merry  time  of 
it,"  she  said,  blandly.  I  remained  mute  with  sur 
prise,  forgetting  that  Aunt  Prim's  eyesight  is  not  so 
good  as  it  might  be,  when  Grumpy  suddenly  cried 
out : 

"  Why,  bless  my  soul,  if  Madge  is  not  making 
hay ! " 

"  Madge !  My  dear  sir,  is  Madge  there ! "  ex 
claimed  Aunt  Prim,  now  thoroughly  horror-stricken. 

"  Of  course  she  is,  and  that  sly  little  minx  from 
the  West,  and  half  a  dozen  others.  Well,  it's  jolly 
fun  to  see  those  fellows  making  hay  with  lavender 


32  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

kids  upon  their  hands  !  "  and  Mr.  Bachelor  Grumpy 
laughed  heartily. 

Here  I  forgot  Madge  entirely,  it  was  so  amusing 
to  watch  Aunt  Prim.  I  knew  that  she  was  boiling 
with  rage  to  think  that  any  one  belonging  to  our 
family  would  frolic  so — but  then  there  was  Bachelor 
Grumpy  at  her  side,  and  what  could  she  do  ? 

Just  nothing ;  and  so  she  smiled  with  her  lips, 
while  her  eyes  darted  forked  lightnings  ;  she  vented 
her  anger  upon  her  poor  shawl  and  parasol,  the 
latter  she  shook  nervously,  and  the  former  she 
twitched  until  I  feared  it  would  fall  in  pieces.  Oh, 
dear,  I  came  near  dying  with  suppressed  laughter ! 
Aunt  Prim  prudently  concluded  to  bide  her  time, 
and  did  not  call  Madge,  but  passed  on  with  Bache 
lor  Grumpy. 

This  gentleman  is  an  old  acquaintance  who  has 
recently  arrived  in  Saratoga.  Is  it  the  bewitching 
serenity  of  Aunt  Prim's  features  which  has  lured  him 
hither  i  or  can  it  be  the  glistening  of  her  gold,  or 
the  sparkling  waters  of  the  Springs  ?  I  know  not ; 
but  at  any  rate,  he  is  "  your  most  devoted  "  to  my 
paragon  aunt,  wherever  we  go.  And  it  is  really 
quite  delightful,  for  this  excellent  man  absorbs  so 
much  of  Aunt  Prim's  attention,  that  she  sometimes 
quite  forgets  "  the  girls." 


MAKING    HAY.  33 

Just  before  the  dinner-hour,  in  walked  Miss 
Madge,  swinging  her  hat  in  her  hand ;  and  the 
saucy  girl  commenced  to  sing — 

"  Under  my  hat  of  barley- straw, 

Charlie  gave  me  a  kiss  ! 
Nobody  heard,  and  nobody  saw, 
Do  not  take  it  amiss — 
'Twas  only  a  kiss  !  " 

Only  a  kiss  !  What  could  the  girl  mean  ?  Here 
Aunt  Prim  entered  and  gave  her  such  a  lecture ! 
Madge  listened  demurely  at  first ;  then,  walking  to 
the  open  window  which  looks  out  upon  the  piazza, 
she  turned  and  said  : 

"  Oh  don't,  Auntie  !  Mr.  Grumpy  is  smoking  right 
under  the  window  ! " 

Aunt  Prim  flounced  angrily  out  of  the  room. 
The  word  Grumpy  had  the  desired  effect,  and  ended 
the  lecture,  and  Madge  laughed  as  though  it  were 
capital  fun. 

There  was  a  concert  in  the  Opera  House  this 
evening.  Of  course  I  was  there,  and  Fitz  Hugh 
beside  me.  And  that  charming  fellow  wore  the 
loveliest  cravat !  I  complimented  him  upon  the 
color,  it  was  so  becoming. 

"  Oh,  yes,  blue   is  the  color  for  a  blonde,  you 

know,"  he  said,  stroking  his  moustache.     Speaking 
2* 


34:  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

of  a  blonde,  did  he  mean  me  or  himself,  I  wonder  \ 
I  have  heard  it  whispered  that  Fitz  Hugh's  golden 
locks  are  dyed.  I  cannot  believe  it,  however, 
although  Fannie  Arlington  declares  she  met  him  in 
Paris  two  winters  ago,  and  that  his  hair  was  then  as 
brown  as  brown  could  be.  She  says  nothing  of  his 
inimitable  moustache ;  I  suppose  it  was  not  visible 
then. 

The  Opera  House  fronts  upon  a  beautiful  grove, 
and  what  can  be  more  charming  than  wandering 
through  this  sylvan  retreat  by  moonlight,  hanging 
upon  Fitz  Hugh's  arm,  with  the  stars  looking  softly 
down  through  the  trees,  while  from  the  concert  room 
near  by  float  delicious  strains  of  music. 

"  Speechless,  and  lost  in  ecstasy, 
Birds  and  the  stars  above  me, 
I  did  not  hear,  I  did  not  see. 
Ah  me  !  I  thought  that  she  did  love  me." 

Bah  !  let  not  every  romantic  youth  imagine  that  a 
maiden  who  looks  upon  him  with  melting  eyes,  as 
they  walk  together  beneath  the  trees  in  the  moon 
light,  is  in  love  with  him.  Possibly  she  is  thinking 
of  some  absent  lover ;  or  probably  she  meditates 
whether  the  dew-drops  which  glisten  like  jewels  in 
her  hair  will  not  rob  her  tresses  of  their  crimp,  or 
the  stiffness  from  the  white  muslin,  which  used  to  be 


MAKING   HAY.  35 

called  a  simple  dress,  but  is  now  so  be-puffed  and 
be-rufflevd  that  it  is  simple  no  longer.  Neither  is  its 
wearer.  Talk  about  the  wisdom  of  our  grand 
mothers  !  One  "  Girl  of  the  Period  "  would  astonish 
and  eclipse  twenty  of  those  dear  ancient  dames.  It 
would  not  do,  however,  to  let  Aunt  Prim  see  that  last 
remark,  for  she  is  fond  of  expressing  her  contempt 
for  the  "  ignorance  of  young  people,"  and  the 
"  shocking  deterioration  of  the  age ! " 


VI. 


THE   WIDOW   DASH. 


THE  Widow  Dash  has  arrived.  Sixteen  Saratoga 
Trunks  ;  five  oblong  ones,  resembling  so  many  coffins, 
in  which  lie  buried  at  full  length  her  ball  dresses ; 
twenty-five  bandboxes ;  a  parrot  in  a  gilded  cage  ; 
two  lap-dogs ;  an  elegant  equipage  with  a  span  of 
full-blooded  bays  ;  a  maid,  a  coachman,  and  a  foot 
man  ;  all  these  are  in  the  train  of  this  wonderful 
widow.  And  goodness  knows  how  much  more,  since 
this  list  does  not  include  the  et  ceteras. 

Saratoga  has  been  in  a  flutter  of  excitement  for 
three  days  over  this  fascinating  widow.  The  young 
men  are  harder  than  ever  now  to  be  suited  in  the 
choice  of  a  cravat,  and  twirl  their  incipient  mous 
taches  for  hours  before  the  mirror,  in  the  hope  of 
seeing  them  grow — and  the  elderly  creatures,  poor 
souls  !  get  themselves  up  "  regardless  " — and  all  this 
for  a  widow  !  What  miserable  taste  ! 

You  remember  the  Widow  Dash  ?  Six  years  ago 
she  was  the  belle  of  the  beau  monde  of  Fifth 
Avenue.  She  married  old  Latitude  and  Longitude — 


THE   WIDOW   DASH. 


THE   WIDOW   DASH.  37 

that's  what  we  schoolgirls  called  him,  for  there  was 
no  limit  to  the  latitude  of  his  purse — and,  as  for  his 
life,  it  had  already  attained  such  a  longitude. 
However,  ignoring  the  longitude  in  consideration 

7        O  O  O 

of  the  latitude,  Miss  Fairy  Beautiful  wedded  Father 
Graybeard.  And  he,  good  old  soul,  growing  tired 
of  the  follies  and  vexations  of  Vanity  Fair,  departed 
this  life  with  a  good  grace,  leaving  to  his  fashionable 
young  wife  the  bulk  of  his  splendid  fortune. 

How  considerate  of  him  !  Such  a  piece  of  good 
nature  is  not  to  be  expected  of  every  venerable  and 
wealthy  husband  !  But  the  poor,  dear  man  has  un 
doubtedly  his  reward ;  and  moreover  he  has  es 
caped  the  earthly  martyrdom  of  travelling  in  charge 
of  the  widow's  baggage,  which  would  be  enough  to 
distract  any  live  masculine.  And  then  the  bills 
which  this  charming  widow  runs  up  would  surely 
suffice  to  frighten  any  man  out  of  his  senses. 
Twelve  thousand  dollars  are  scarcely  sufficient  to 
cover  the  expenses  of  her  short  season  at  Saratoga. 

Ah,  well,  if  husbands  must  die,  it  is  a  fine  thing  to 
be  a  rich  widow  ! 

It  is  now  two  years  since  old  Latitude  took  his 
departure  for  a  better  sphere,  and  since  that  inter 
esting — not  to  say  disinterested  event  on  his  part — his 
widow  has  maintained  a  proper  seclusion,  and 


38  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

devoted  herself  assiduously  to  the  study  of  woman 
kind. 

Do  not  imagine  for  a  moment  that  she  has  the 
least  idea  of  taking  the  platform  in  defence  of 
woman's  rights,  or  that  she  has  resolved  in  her 
mind  any  grand  scheme  for  the  amelioration  of  the 
troubles  of  her  sex.  Not  at  all.  She  knows  her 
rights,  and  knows  how  to  obtain  them  also  in  the 
most  charming  way  in  the  world. 

If  one  only  knows  how,  the  genus  homo  is  the 
easiest  genus  to  manage  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
The  great  art  consists  in  concealing  the  management 
altogether.  Just  let  these  masculine  bipeds  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  whip  and  the  reins,  and  straightway 
they  are  stubborn  as  mules  ! 

But  stand  smilingly  before  them,  with  your 
"  gyPsv  "  nat  fr^l  °^  f resn?  green  grass,  and  the  dear 
creatures  will  amble  along  beautifully. 

Don't  I  know  ?  Haven't  I  Fitz  Hugh  already  in 
training  ?  But  to  return  to  the  widow.  During  these 
two  years  she  has  devoted  her  golden  moments  to  the 
precious  study  of  herself.  Every  art  known  to  an 
cient  and  modern  times  for  attaining  the  perfection 
of  female  loveliness,  she  has  explored ;  from  long- 
centuries  ago,  when  Roman  ladies  sat  upon  the 
house-tops  to  bleach  their  hair  beneath  Italy's  burn- 


THE    WIDOW   DASH.  39 

ing  sun,  up  to  the  present  day,  when  modern  belles 
transform  their  tresses  into  gold  by  some  mysterious 
process  of  the  hair-dresser's  skill. 

Every  advantage  to  be  derived  from  dress  has 
been  carefully  pondered  ;  every  look,  every  motion, 
every  smile  well  studied  ;  and  now,  having  reached 
the  acme  of  loveliness  and  perfection,  in  her  study  of 
womankind,  the  Widow  Dash  reappears  in  society, 
to  dazzle  it  with  far  more  than  her  pristine  glory. 

She  enters  as  queen,  into  the  sphere  for  which  she 
has  fitted  herself — that  of  conquering  mankind  ! 

This  is  the  age  of  progression,  and  it  is  quite 
evident  that  woman  must  advance  as  well  as  man. 
If  man  shuts  the  gates,  and  debars  her  from  advanc 
ing  in  his  way,  let  him  be  sure  that  she  will  find  a 
path  of  her  own,  and  circumvent  him  at  last.  Talk 
about  the  perplexities  which  harass  and  worry  a 
man's  brain !  I  would  not  undertake  to  teach  the 
smartest  man  alive  to  master  the  infinite  trivialities 
that  make  up  the  sum  of  a  fashionable  woman's 
life. 

It  is  all  very  well  for  a  man,  after  years  of  labor, 
to  get  one  grand  idea  safely  lodged  in  his  cranium, 
to  turn  "  professional "  of  some  kind,  and  then  rest 
upon  his  oars,  content  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his 
life  in  developing  that  one  idea.  But  just  let  him 


40  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

attempt  to  fathom  the  intricacies  of  the  mind  and 
heart  of  a  woman  like  the  Widow  Dash,  and  he  will 
find  himself  beyond  his  depths  in  no  time.  Law 
and  logic  would  be  nothing  to  that ! 

I  plainly  see  trouble  in  the  distance.  Bachelor 
Grumpy  is  swerving  from  his  allegiance,  and  Aunt 
Prim  is  disturbed  in  mind.  A  shadow,  as  yet  no 
larger  than  that  flung  from  a  bird's  wing,  darkens 
her  "  love's  young  dream."  Ever  since  this  fair 
widow's  arrival,  Grumpy  has  acted  like  a  man  in  a 
maze,  or  rather  like  one  who  has  lost  his  senses. 
Madge  says  the  widow  has  bewitched  half  the  men 
here  into  lunacy.  And  she  has  such  a  horror  of 
idiotic  men  1 

"  Leaves  have  their  time  to  fall." 

And  so  have  love-smitten  youths  !  that  is,  upon  their 
knees,  before  the  object  of  their  devotions.  But 
who  wishes  to  see  a  man  on  his  knees  at  all  times,  or 
all  men,  paying  homage  to  the  same  woman  ?  If 
Fitz  Hugh  is  sometimes  slightly  bewildered,  who 
can  blame  him?  If  that  irresistible  youth  is  too 
much  infatuated  already  to  fall  into  this  wily 
widow's  net,  so  much  the  better  for  him !  Young 
men,  beware  of  the  widows  ! 

The  attentions  which  those  odious  lap-dogs,  and 


THE   WIDOW-  DASH.  41 

that  screeching  parrot,  which  belong  to  the  Widow 
Dash,  receive  from  our  Saratoga  exquisites,  is  simply 
terrific  !  As  much  adulation  and  homage  are  offered 
them  as  though  they  were  Saratoga  belles.  And  how 
complacently  the  Widow  Dash  contemplates  all  this  ! 
She  says  but  little.  She  has  more  faith  in  the 
eloquence  of  looks  than  of  words.  She  smiles,  or 
sighs ; — flutters  her  fan,  the  better  to  display  her 
white  hands  glittering  with  gems  ; — darts  destructive 
glances  from  her  soft  eyes  at  some  adorer  ; — blushes 
slightly,  then  drops  her  orbs  languidly — and  the 
intoxicated  admirer,  poor,  foolish  butterfly  that  he 
is !  is  ready  to  fall  in  the  dust  at  her  feet,  utterly 
regardless  of  the  consequent  ruin  to  his  white  inex 
pressibles  !  Oh,  dear !  what  fools  these  men  are ! 
Still,  out  of  commiseration  for  these  poor,  benighted, 
deluded  creatures,  I  repeat — to  all  men,  both  young 
and  old — beware  of  the  Saratoga  widow  ! 

Aunt  Prim  is  waxing  wrathy.  In  fact  she  has 
been  wrathy  ever  since  this  morning,  which  we 
spent  on  the  "  grand  stand  "  watching  the  races.  Of 
course  the  inevitable  widow  was  there  ;  and  Bache 
lor  Grumpy  was  so  attentive  ; — to  the  widow,  not  to 
Aunt  Prim  !  Aunt  Prim  would  expire  at  the  mere 
idea  of  attending  a  race.  The  widow  vanquished 
her  admirer  in  a  bet — and  Aunt  Prim  has  a  proper 


42  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

horror  of  betting.  She  would  not  make  a  bet,  ever, 
to  secure  Bachelor  Grumpy  for  life.  This  is  all 
very  well,  but  still  what  a  disagreeable  duenna 
Aunt  Prim  is  when  she  is  angry ! 


VII. 

LE   BEAU   MONDE. 

WAS  there  ever  a  gayer  place  than  Saratoga  is 
this  season  ?  No  sooner  has  one  wave  of  pleasure 
died  softly  away  than 

"  Another  as  bright  and  as  shining  comes  on." 

It  is  one  constant  whirl  of  excitement  from  early 
morning  far  into  the  "  wee  sma' "  hours  of  the  night. 
One  lives  almost  in  a  dream — a  beautiful,  poet's 
dream — through  which  is  ever  floating  strains  of 
delicious  music,  the  perfume  of  flowers,  the  voices 
of  sweet  singers,  the  flashing  of  bright  eyes,  soft 
glances,  and  whispered  tones — the  gleaming  of  rare 
jewels,  and  the  rustling  of  costly  robes.  All  these 
blend  harmoniously  together  to  make  life  beautiful, 
and  to  blot  all  care  and  sorrow  from  the  heart. 

People  who  come  here  to  pass  only  a  day  or  two 
find  themselves  detained  as  if  by  a  magical  spell— a 
charm  which  they  are  loth  to  break ;  and  so  they 
linger,  until  days  glide  into  weeks,  and  the  gay 
season  is  over,  and  the  memory  of  Saratoga  pleas- 


44  SPAKKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

ures  follows  one  far  into  the  dreary  winter,  like  thp 
scent  of  the  dead  summer  roses. 

Every  one  is  light-hearted,  every  one  is  happy 
One  would  think  that  life  were  all  sunshine,  thai 
we  had  only  to  revel  in  the  warm,  golden  beams,  and 
to  pluck  flowers  that  never  concealed  a  thorn  ! 

The  hotels  are  crowded  with  people  ;  the  streets 
are  brilliant  with  gayly  dressed  ladies  who  prom 
enade  without  hats,  as  though  in  a  drawing-room, 
and  shade  their  fair  faces  from  the  glowing  kisses 
of  the  sun  by  parasols  of  delicate  tints.  Elegant  car 
riages,  with  fine  horses,  are  driven  up  and  down 
Broadway  by  sable  Jehus  in  gorgeous  livery.  The 
stores  are  filled  with  the  latest  New  York  fashions 
and  novelties,  venders  of  quack  medicines  amuse  the 
throng  with  comic  songs  and  witty  sayings ;  tables 
spread  with  Indian  wares  attract  the  lovers  of  curios 
ities  ;  while  those  who  are  fond  of  the  antique,  hover 
longingly  over  a  display  of  rich  Oriental  jewelry, 
bracelets  and  rings,  which  possess  the  charm  of  waft 
ing  one's  thoughts  far  over  the  sea  to  sunny  Al 
giers,  to  sweet  Georgian  vales,  or  where  floats  the 
perfume  of  roses  which  bloom  in  Cashmere.  Prom 
enading  the  Saratogian  Broadway  is  like  wandering 
through  a  great  fancy  fair,  where  one  never  tires  of 
seeing  or  hearing.  All  kinds  of  people  continually 


LE   BEAU   MONDE.  45 

pass  you ;  the  beautiful  and  the  ugly ;  the  man  of 
intellect,  and  the  be-whiskered  fop  whose  brain 
has  long  since  run  to  hair ;  distinguished  clergy 
men,  poets,  and  artists ;  illustrious  authors,  and  cele 
brated  musicians ;  dignified  senators  and  affable 
Congressmen  ;  women  of  culture  and  refinement ; 
women  of  birth  and  breeding ;  men  who  have  not 
a  soul  above  buttons,  and  women  who  exist  only  to 
array  themselves ;  beautiful  young  ladies,  and  fool 
ish  old  ones,  who  are  neither  young  nor  beautiful, 
but  who  refuse  to  resign  themselves  gracefully  to 
the  custody  of  old  Father  Time,  and  deck  them 
selves  with  all  the  affectations  of  dress  and  manners 
of  sweet  sixteen. 

' '  Oh  !   wad  some  power  the  gif tie  gie  us, 
To  see  ourselves  as  ithers  see  us  ! " 

There  goes  a  woman  promenading  the  piazza,  the 
sight  of  whom  is  enough  to  draw  the  tears  from 
one's  eyes  ;  she  is  at  least  seventy-five  years  old  ;  yet 
so  be-powdered,  be-painted,  be-frizzled,  that  it  is  to 
be  doubted  if  she  recognizes  her  own  self  in  the 

O 

mirror.  Her  dress  is  always  youthful ;  this  morning 
it  is  a  white  swiss,  covered  with  puffs  and  ruffles. 
A  bright-colored  sash  is  fastened  at  her  waist.  Two 
long,  dark  curls  float  airily  down  her  back,  while  the 


4:6  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

rest  of  her  auburn  (?)  hair  is  arranged  in  braids  and 
puffs.  Diamonds  glisten  in  her  thin  ears,  and  upon 
her  withered  hands,  which  are  also  profusely  pow 
dered  or  covered  with  enamelling.  To  see  this 
woman  at  the  distance  of  a  few  feet,  one  might  sup 
pose  her  to  be  very  young  ;  but  when  she  approaches, 
oh,  horror  !  a  shudder  creeps  over  you,  and  you  feel 
like  fleeing  before  the  skeleton  which  looks  out  upon 
you  behind  the  thick  layers  of  enamel,  arrayed  in  the 
height  of  fashion.  To  complete  her  toilette,  she  car 
ries  a  little  black-and-tau  terrier  under  her  arm, 
which  looks  at  you  with  its  sharp  black  eyes,  and 
shows  its  small  white  teeth  menacingly.  I  never 
look  upon  that  terrier  but  I  think  of  a  ghoul  haunt 
ing  a  grave,  or  the  spirit  of  Eblis  keeping  guard 
over  a  doomed  soul,  in  the  shape  of  a  pampered  lap- 
dog  !  And  I  never  see  this  painted  skeleton  dance, 
for  dance  she  does/ but  I  fancy  I  hear  the  rattling  of 
dry  bones ! 

In  pleasing  contrast  to  this  horrid  mockery  of  old 
age,  this  disdaining  the  years  which  should  bring 
honor  and  wisdom  to  all,  is  Mrs.  Beta,  the  wife  of 
Congressman  Beta,  of  New  York.  This  dear  old 
lady  is  always  simply  dressed  in  black,  and  wears 
her  own  gray  hair  arranged  in  becoming  little  puffs. 
Her  manners  are'the  simplest  and  most  unaffected 


LE   BEAU   MONDE.  47 

in  the  world,  and  one  may  look  upon  her  and  learn 
how  to  grow  old  gracefully  ! 

One  cannot  help  asking,  while  looking  into  the 
faces  of  some  of  the  elderly  ladies  who  spend  the 
summer  at  Saratoga,  what  has  become  of  the  dear  old 
ladies  of  the  olden  time?  The  sweet,  pale  face, 
from  which  the  roses  had  fled,  but  left  their  sweet 
ness  still ;  the  silvered  locks  which  crowned  the  fur 
rowed  brow  with  a  halo  of  glory  ;  the  soft,  low  voice 
which  touched  the  heart,  because  its  every  tone 
seemed  a  plaint  for  the  dear  ones  who  had  "  gone 
before  ; J>  the  simple  attire  of  black  silk,  and  the  soft 
ruffles  of  white  lace ;  where  is  now  this  vision  of 
sweet  womanhood,  which  no  one  could  fail  to  love 
and  venerate  ?  Alas !  the  dowagers  who  come  to 
renew  their  youth  at  the  springs  of  Saratoga  are  not 
of  this  class !  Old  age  forgets  that  it  has  a  poetry 
of  its  own,  and  makes  a  sad  mistake  in  putting  on 
the  mask  of  youth. 

Saratoga  is  a  veritable  "  School  for  Scandal."     It 

O 

is  amusing  and  at  the  same  time  saddening  to  hear 
the  remarks  made  upon  every  side.  One  almost 
dreads  to  cross  the  room  when  one  hears  the  insid 
ious  comments  made  upon  every  passer-by.  But, 
after  all,  a  woman  need  have  little  fear  for  herself — 
it  is  only  her  toilette  which  is  discussed. 


4:8  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

Is  it  not  a  wretched,  questionable  taste  when  the 
world  ranks  the  wardrobe  as  of  more  importance 
than  the  individual  ? 

Dresses,  not  brains,  are  at  a  premium  in  Sara 
toga. 

I  hate  to  hear  a  man  discussing  a  lady's  dress.  I 
am  apt  to  fancy  that  his  soul  is  small  enough  to  be 
tucked  under  the  hem  of  a  handkerchief. 

People  who  call  themselves  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
will  stand  on  the  piazzas  or  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  eagerly  watching  the  promenaders  who  ap 
proach,  make  their  caustic  remarks  and  comments 
as  freely,  as  though  they  were  gazing  upon  a 
menagerie. 

Did  you  ever  know  that  butterflies  buzz  ?  You 
should  spend  an  hour  of  a  bright  evening  in  tho 
parlor  at  Saratoga  ;  such  a  continued  buzzing,  chat 
tering,  and  laughing  of  merry  people  congregated 
together  was  never  heard  before  !  No  assembly  of 
busy  bees  could  hope  to  rival  these  butterflies  of 
fashion,  who  swarm  under  the  brilliant  chandeliers, 
and  spread  their  gaudy  wings. 

If  you  draw  near  to  the  various  little  coteries,  you 
will  hear  people  who  are  sparkling  with  jewels 
rioting  in  bad  grammar  and  empty  ideas ;  you  will 
see  aldermen  who  can  scarcely  write  their  own 


LE   BEAU   MONDE.  49 

names,  and  shoddy  people  who  endeavor  to  conceal 
their  ignorance  with  thick  layers  of  gold. 

They  are  dancing  the  German  this  morning  in 
the  ball-room,  and  Madge  is  whirling  through  its 
mazes  with  Fitz  Hugh.  The  witching  strains  of 
the  music  float  in  through  my  window,  and  if  my 
letter  be  incoherent,  it  is  because  my  pen  is  inspired 
with  the  spirit  of  the  dance,  and  will  persist  in  keep 
ing  time. 

To-morrow  night  we»  are  to  have  a  grand  mas 
querade  at  our  hotel ;  of  which  I  think  Madge 
entertains  "great  expectations."  That  girl  never 
will  sober  down  into  a  staid  old  woman,  if  she  lives 
to  be  fifty  !  She  is  continually  upsetting  the  equi 
librium  of  Aunt  Prim's  good-temper  by  her  vaga 
ries,  and  Aunt  Prim's  temper  is  none  of  the  best.  I 
have  advised  the  dear  old  lady  to  take  a  few  addi 
tional  glasses  of  Congress  water,  which  she  firmly 
believes  to  be  a  cure  for  all  evils. 
3 


VIII. 

THE   MASQUERADE. 

THE  morning  after  a  ball  is  not  apt  to  be  par 
ticularly  charming,  and  the  people  we  found  espe 
cially  brilliant  and  witty  beneath  the  gaslight,  are 
often  stupid  enough  the  next  day.  The  belles  of 
the  evening,  who  bewildered  your  fancy,  and 
entangled  your  heart,  and  still  lingered  in  your 
dreams  after  the  soft  good-uights  were  uttered,  wear 
a  different  guise  the  next  morning.  Everybody 
looks  sleepy  and  bored.  Everybody  except  Aunt 
Prim,  who  sits  erect  in  her  chair  upon  the  piazza 
reading  the  morning  paper,  and  denouncing  "  that 
artful  Napoleon !  "  I  am  glad  that  Napoleon  just 
now  engrosses  her  anathemas,  since  Madge  and  I 
would  certainly  come  in  for  our  bitter  share,  did 
the  good  lady  dream  that  we,  her  nieces,  attended  a 
masquerade ! 

Cousin  Madge  sits  near,  shading  her  face  with  a 
pink  parasol,  with  her  sweet  lips  buried  in  a  fresh 
water-lily  which  she  holds  in  her  hand,  and  her 
beautiful  eyes  half  closed,  for  they  are  heavy  with 


THE  MASQUEKADE.  51 

slumber.  Madge  is  weary  after  the  past  night's 
frolic,  and  is  doing  penance  now  by  ignoring  the 
admiring  glances  of  those  that  pass  her,  and  giving 
all  her  thoughts  to  her  absent  lover.  Ah  !  "  there's 
nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life,  as  love's  young 
dream !  " 

If  men  were  to  die  of  their  vanity,  how  frightful 
would  be  the  mortality  among  them ! 

If  Madge  chances  to  glance  twice  at  a  pair  of 
patent-leather  boots,  or  a  curled  moustache  which 
passes  her,  the  individual  who  owns  said  boots  or 
moustache  is  sure  to  catch  the  twinkle  in  her  eye, 
and  immediately  pluming  his  feathers  with  gratified 
vanity,  he  promenades  up  and  down  for  her  especial 
benefit.  And  all  the  time  Madge  is  probably  think 
ing  of  some  one  else — longing  for  her  dinner — or 
viewing  her  wardrobe  with  her  mind's  eye,  and 
pondering  in  what  toilette  she  may  appear  next. 
If  she  notice  the  arrogant  stare  of  the  man  at  all,  it 
is  only  to  laugh  at  his  conceit,  or  to  walk  away  to 
avoid  his  impertinent  glance. 

Not  a  presentable,  unmarried  man  in  Saratoga 
but  imagines  that  every  pretty  or  homely  girl  is 
laying  siege  to  his  heart,  and  that  every  match 
making  mamma  is  endeavoring  to  weave  her  toils 
around  him.  He  fancies  that  he  has  only  to  ask  and 


52  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

that  the  maiden  whom  he  may  honor  with  his  choice 
will  drop  into  his  arms. 

But  to  the  masquerade.  Among  the  characters 
represented  were  patriotic  young  ladies  in  costumes 
of  red,  white,  and  blue  ;  flower  girls,  and  queens  of 
the  night ;  cavaliers,  troubadours,  sultans,  and  clowns 
in  abundance.  And  there  was  a  pretentious  young 
gentleman  in  a  court  suit  of  white  silk  and  gold 
lace,  who  evidently  had  not  received  the  order  of 
the  "  Garter,"  since  his  white  hose  were  full  of 
wrinkles ! 

Oh,  dear!  what  a  blessing  it  would  be  to  one's 
sense  of  the  beautiful,  if  some  people  would  always 
wear  masks.  There  was  a  Highlander  present, 
whose  fine,  stately  figure  elicited  much  admiration 
from  the  fair  sex,  but  who  took  off  his  mask  and 
revealed  a  shad-faced,  middle-a2;ed  man  whom  no 

>  O 

one  would  ever  dream  of  falling  in  love  with. 

And  Madge  and  I  wearied  ourselves  with  laugh 
ing  at  Fitz  Hugh,  who  went  raving  over  a  head  of 
golden  curls,  but  whose  rhapsodies  were  suddenly 
brought  to  dismay,  when  at  the  mystic  hour  of 
twelve,  the  masks  were  removed,  and  the  poor  fel 
low's  inamorata  proved  to  be  a  jolly  old  lady  of 
sixty !  Poor  Fitz  Hugh !  He  was  glum  and  sar 
castic  enough  all  the  rest  of  the  evening,  and 


THE   MASQUERADE.  53 

indulged  in  the  most  cynical  remarks  about  the 
deceitfulness  of  women.  During  the  evening  I  took 
especial  pains  to  draw  his  attention  to  a  beautiful 
brunette,  just  budding  into  womanhood,  and 
evidently  destined  to  the  naughty  mission  of  break 
ing  hearts.  But  he  was  too  much  absorbed  in  that 
splendid  mesh  of  golden  curls,  to  heed  the  brunette. 
I  have  no  patience  with  a  man  who  falls  in  love  with 
a  wig ! 

I  shall  take  Fitz  Hugh  to  the  hair-dresser's 
window  some  day,  and  proceed  to  enlighten  him. 
The  ball-room  was  crowded,  and  magnificent  toilettes 
and  blazing  jewels  were  as  plentiful  as  roses  in 
June.  But  there  is  an  old  adage  which  says, 
"  Fine  feathers  make  fine  birds  ;  "  and  if  all  the  trap 
pings  of  wealth  were  laid  aside,  Saratoga  could  boast 
of  but  little  beauty. 

Rouge  and  powder,  and  all  the  other  accessories 
to  a  fashionable  woman's  toilette,  may  go  a  long 
way  toward  adding  fancied  charms  to  those  who 
have  sad  lack  of  them.  But  if  these  apparently 
blooming  roses  were  transplanted  from  the  hot-bed 
of  fashion,  and  deprived  of  their  jewels,  satins,  and 
laces,  of  the  rouge,  powder,  switches  and  curls,  your 
roses  would  suddenly  vanish,  and  not  even  the  charm 
of  a  daffy-down-dilly  remain. 


54  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

And  even  when  genuine  beauty  passes  by,  per* 
feet  features,  and  complexions  which  owe  nothing 
to  art,  how  often  does  the  face  express  nothing  but 
insipidity.  One  sees  plenty  of  bright  eyes,  luxuriant 
tresses,  and  pretty  shoulders ;  but  alas !  the  soul 
which  might  inspire  the  heart  to  lasting  admiration 
is  too  often  wanting.  And  what  is  vapid,  expression 
less  beauty  worth  ?  Every  young  lady  who  is  bent 
on  making  conquests,  might  easily  spare  a  few  of 
the  precious  hours  wasted  upon  fashionable  follies, 
and  devote  them  to  cultivating  her  mind.  For  the 
charms  she  may  thus  acquire  are  imperishable,  and 
will  outlive  her  youth  and  loveliness. 

An  elderly  lady  of  intelligence  and  culture  has 
always  warm-hearted  admirers  and  friends,  while  a 
frivolous,  empty-headed  young  belle,  with  no  charm 
save  a  pretty  face,  is  sure  to  sink  into  a  stupid  old 
woman. 

The  prettiest  fancy  dresses  at  the  ball  were  worn 
by  the  children.  Little  fairies,  enveloped  in  clouds 
of  white  tulle,  flitted  around  the  room,  and  boys  of 
tender  years,  in  powdered  wigs  and  satin  small 
clothes,  danced  and  promenaded  with  the>nymphs  in 
tulle,  -\vith  all  the  airs  and  graces  of  young  gentle 
men  of  a  larger  growth. 

And  how  the  little   faces  sparkled  with  glee ! 


THE   MASQUERADE.  55 

There  were  Scotch  laddies  and  lassies,  gentle  and 
fair  as  the  bonnie  lovers  who  inspired  the  tender 
muse  of  Robert  Burns  ;  there  were  little  Normandy 
peasants,  with  their  high-pointed  caps. resting  upon 
thick  tresses  bright  with  youth's  sunshine;  also 
pretty  Swiss  shepherdesses  with  simple  crooks  in 
their  tiny  hands,  and  Italian  banditti  whose  faces 
were  so  utterly  devoid  of  wickedness  as  to  induce 
one  to  believe  in  the  traditional  good  qualities  and 
innate  nobleness  of  Robin.  Hood  and  others  of  his 
ilk ;  little  fellows  in  blue  and  white,  called  them 
selves  "  jolly  tars,"  and  cteclared  their  invincible 
devotion  to  the  stars  and  stripes ;  and  there  were 
soldiers  who  never  dreamed  of  scars,  and  little  girls 
who  commenced  their  belle-ship  thus  early  by 
wearing  dresses  trimmed  with  tiny  silver  bells, 
which  tinkled  musically  as  their  wearers  went  float 
ing  through  the  dance. 

But  it  is  quite  evident  that  the  sober  American  is 
not  gifted  with  that  vivacity,  that  froth  and  sparkle 
of  merriment  which  overspreads  the  surface  of  a 
French  or  Italian  life,  like  the  foam  upon  a  glass  of 
champagng—  and  therefore  be  cannot  enter  into  the 
wild,  capricious,  fantastic  spirit  of  the  masquerade 
which  constitutes  its  only  charm. 

Where  is  the  pleasure  of  attending  a  masked  ball. 


5G  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

when  three-fourths  of  the  assemblage  are  dressed  in 
their  everyday  silks  and  broadcloth  ? 

How  can  one  imagine  for  a  moment,  that  he  lives 
in  the  primitive  days  of  America,  as  he  promenades 
the  ball-room  with  a  swarthy,  black-haired  Pocahon- 
tas  leaning  upon  his  arm,  and  is  at  the  same  time 
continually  bowing  to  the  "  Girl  of  the  Period," 
arrayed  in  the  most  fashionable  modern  attire  ? 

And  where  is  the  pleasure  of  talking  with  a 
masked  Scotchman  who  wears  the  tartan  plaid  with 
a  manly  grace,  .but  who  has  never  read  a  line  of 
Robert  Burns',  and  kno\fs  absolutely  nothing  of  the 
heroic  Wallace  ? 

The  fop  and  the  fool,  and  the  natural  Satans  who 
go  about  dressed  in  black  and  red,  but  who  can 
never  hope  to  attain  to  the  dignity  of  a  Mephis- 
topheles,  are  perhaps  the  best-represented  characters 
at  a  modern  masquerade.  It  is  so  easy  for  people 
to  throw  off  the  mask  they  wear  all  their  lives  for  the 
deception  of  the  world,  to  don  a  hideous  guise  and 
be  themselves  for  a  few  brief  hours  1 


IX. 

FOETUNE-HUNTEKS. 

AN  interesting  specimen  of  the  human  biped  is 
the  fortune-hunter.  We  have  them  in  Saratoga  in 
abundance.  Some  create  a  sensation  as  counts ; 
some  as  wealthy  Southerners,  or  patriotic  Cubans ; 
and  others  come  from — Heaven  only  knows  where — 
and  cut  a  dash  with  their  fine  figures,  fine  manners, 
and  elegant  dress.  The  fortune-hunter  is  inde 
fatigable  in  learning  family  histories.  He  knows 
the  "  prospects "  of  every  noticeable  damsel  in 
society.  He  regards  every  young  lady  in  the  light 
of  a  probable  heiress,  counts  her  jewels,  and  knows 
as  well  as  a  married  man— perhaps  better — the  value 
of  her  laces  and  other  finery.  He  knows  just  how 
many  heirs  there  are  to  the  wealth  of  each  pater 
familias,  and  can  guess  with  the  accuracy  of  a  life- 
insurance  agent,  as  to  the  probable  longevity  of  such 
"  paternal."  He  addresses  himself  rather  to  the 
mammas  than  to  the  daughters — which  evinces  a 
shrewd  knowledge  of  human  nature.  He  trusts  to 
his  good  looks  and  stylish  air  to  attract  the  suscep- 


58  SPARKLES  FKOM  SARATOGA. 

tible  hearts  of  the  younger  ladies,  while  he  appears 
utterly  indifferent  to  them,  and  all  the  time  he  is, 
like  the  cunning  spider,  waiting  for  his  prey.  The 
unlucky  heiress  who  chances  at  last  to  fall  into  his 
grasp,  will  never  be  able  to  say  that  he  took  especial 
pains  to  win  her,  for  he  will  weave  his  web  so 
skillfully  that  she  will  blindly  walk  therein,  seem 
ingly  of  her  own  sweet  accord. 

The  fortune-hunter  is  a  cool  speculator,  who  con 
siders  every  dollar  he  spends  at  Saratoga,  or  New 
port,  or  in  arranging  his  own  person  in  the  latest 
style,  as  a  good  investment,  which  shall  some  day 
bring  him  splendid  returns.  I  believe  that  he 
would  make  love  to  Aunt  Prim  herself,  not  caring 
whether  his  heiress  is  young  or  old,  so  that  she 
has  plenty  of  money.  But  our  worthy  aunt  is 
far  too  shrewd  to  be  lured  by  his  wiles. 

Just  at  present,  one  of  these  individuals  who  is 
eagerly  looking  out  for  a  wife  who  will  be  able  to 
take  care  of  him,  (it  is  to  be  hoped  that  she  will 
belong  to  the  Woman's  Rights  party,  and  will  see 
that  he  attends  to  household  affairs,  while  she  at 
tends  to  the  affairs  of  the  nation  !)  has  his  eyes  fixed 
admiringly  upon  the  Goldbug  family. 

First,  there  is  Papa  Goldbug — who  really  seems 
to  be  gifted  as  was  King  Midas  of  olden  time, 


FORTUNE-HUNTERS.  59 

for  everything  he  touches  is  turned  to  precious 
gold. 

He  has  been  most  emphatically,  a  lucky  man.  No 
one  knows  his  pedigree  ;  it  is  to  be  doubted  if  he 
knows  it  himself — though  rumor  has  it  that  he  com 
menced  life  as  a  rag-seller,  and  his  father  may  have 
been  a  rag-picker  in  the  very  streets  through  which 
his  costly  equipages  now  roll.  It  matters  not ;  he 
has  risen  from  his  rags  to  purple  and  fine  linen,  and 
society  now  smiles  upon  him,  and  holds  out  her 
hand  to  lift  him  yet  higher  ;  for  society  is  partial  to 
purple  and  fine  linen.  And  yet,  if  still  in  the 
midst  of  his  rags,  who  would  notice  Papa  Goldbug  ? 

Ah!  society  would  hold  its  perfumed  handker 
chief  to  its  fastidious  nose,  and  pass  by  on  the  other 
side,  wishing  devoutly  that  the  earth  were  swept  of 
its  scum  !  What  homage  we  yield  to  purple  and 
fine  linen !  while  often  regardless  of  the  God-life— 
blind  to  the  divinity  which  is  enshrined  in  every 
human  creature.  We  worship  the  mortal,  and 
ignore  the  immortal. 

If  Papa  Goldbug  be  worthy  of  the  flattering  at 
tentions  he  now  receives,  was  he  not  worthy  of  the 
same  kind  consideration  years  ago,  when,  he  was 
struggling  hard  for  the  success  which  he  has  won  ? 
If  worthy  then,  he  ia  deserving  now ;  if  not,  then 


60  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

those  who  honor  him,  do  honor  to  his  gold,  not  to 
the  man ! 

u  The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
The  man's  the  gowd  for  a'  that." 

Mamma  Goldbug  is  a  dressy,  fussy  little  woman, 
who  revels  in  silks,  and  satins,  and  velvets  all  day 
long,  scorning,  in  her  newly  acquired  wealth,  to  wrap 
herself  in  commoner  materials.  She  can  afford  to 
wear  silk  always,  and  she  wishes  people  to  know  it. 
She  mixes  up  real  and  imitation  laces  in  a  mar 
vellous  way,  from  sheer  inability  to  tell  the  differ 
ence  between  the  two. 

She  wears  gloves  usually,  for  her  little  fat  hands 
are  like  twin  cabbbage  roses,  and  their  ruddy  hue 
causes  a  world  of  vexation  to  the  good  little  woman. 
She  tries  hard,  poor  soul,  to  live  up  to  her  position, 
but  she  is  a  martyr,  nevertheless,  and  her  life  is  a 
sacrifice  to  fashion. 

Mamma  Goldbug  would  be  far  happier  queening 
it  over  a  snug  little  dairy,  with  plenty  of  cows,  and 
chickens,  and  even  pigs,  to  look  after,  while  she 
vigorously  flourished  the"  broom  or  the  mop — than 
she  is,  sitting  here  in  state,  dressed  to  the  last  extrem 
ity  of  fashion,  loaded  with  finery,  and  striving  to 
imitate  the  airs  and  graces  of  the  fashionable  people 
she  sees  around  her. 


FORTUNE-HUNTERS. 


But  we  have  yet  to  mention  the  jewel  for  which 
the  fortune-hunter  is  striving.  And  this  is  the  little 
Goldbug;  a  pretty,  pert  young  lady  of  eighteen, 
who  possesses  a  great  deal  of  the  shrewdnes  which 
enabled  her  father  to  rise  in  life,  and  who  adapts 
herself  far  more  easily  to  the  ways  of  the  beau 
monde  than  does  her  martyred  mamma.  The  little 
Goldbug  appears  in  the  morning  daintily  attired 
in  a  becoming  white  dress,  with  a  little  hat  upon  her 
head.  I  have  heard  gentlemen  sneer  at  the  useless- 
ness  of  a  lady's  hat.  But  how  easy  it  is  to  be  mis 
taken!  Under  the  little  Goldbug's  chapeau  is 
tucked  away  a  great  quantity  of  curl-papers  and 
dozens  of  crimping  pins  which  it  would  never  do  to 
display,  and  which  are  twisted  so  tightly  that  the 
poor  thing  can  scarcely  close  her  eyes.  I  think  she 
sleeps,  rabbit-like,  with  one  eye  open  I  So  she  is  a 
martyr,  too,  to  the  tyrant  Fashion  !  —  and,  moreover, 
ladies'  hats  are  useful.  The  little  Goldbug  wishes 
to  shine,  like  the  stars,  at  night,  and  so  when  the 
night  comes,  she  emerges  gloriously,  minus  the  hat 
and  curl-papers.  And  the  charming,  eancy,  inde 
pendent,  and  more  than  all,  wealthy  litijj  Goldbug 
is  quite  a  belle,  and  has  a  train  of  admirers  as 
long  as  the  train  of  a  comet.  The  only  blemish 
to  the  little  Goldbug's  beauty  is  an  odd  little 


6$  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

nose,  which  in  vulgar  life  would  be  pronounced 
a  decided  pug,  but  which  her  fashionable  admirers 
designate  as  piquantly  retrousse.  Mamma  Goldbug, 
with  her  unsophisticated  heart,  would  fall  an  easy 
prey  to  the  fortune-hunter,  were  she  a  widow.  And 
as  it  is,  she  is  only  too  apt  to  prove  a  good  ally  in 
winning  her  daughter's  affection.  But  that  young 
lady  is  not  so  easily  to  be  hoodwinked.  She  has 
already  refused  a  half  dozen  offers,  and  is  in  no 
hurry  to  rush  into  matrimony.  So  this  tall  and 
elegant  fortune-hunter,  who  wears  a  moustache  and 
carries  a  cane,  may  woo  mamma  as  assiduously  as  he 
can,  but  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  sly  little  Goldbug 
will  ever  be  caught  in  his  web. 

We  had  a  delightful  drive  yesterday  to  the  Lake. 
We  rowed  across  the  water  by  moonlight  and  drank 
our  fill  of  romance.  Aunt  Prim  and  Bachelor 
Grumpy  sat  in  the  stern  of  the  boat — Aunt  Prim 
placing  the  parasol  between  them  for  propriety's 
sake — 'Madge  and  her  latest  adorer  sat  in  the  centre, 
and  that  dear  fellow,  Fitz  Hugh,  and  myself  in  the 
bow  of  the  boat.  The  stars  were  all  twinkling 
brightly  in  the  sky,  and  the  moon  seemed  to  laugh 
as  she  mirrored  herself  in  the  little  waves,  and  re 
membered  how  nicely  she  eclipsed  the  sun  the  other 
day.  We  all  follow  the  laws  of  nature ;  and  what 


FORTUNE-HUNTERS.  63 

man  would  expect  to  shine  when  a  beautiful  woman 
passed  by  ? 

Madge's  new  admirer  is  a  dusky  Cuban  with 
magnificent  dark  eyes,  the  very  beau  ideal  of  a 
romantic  lover.  He  is  all  enthusiasm,  and  all  pa 
triotism.  He  has  a  string  of  names  as  long  as  his 
pedigree,  commencing  with  Luis  Francisco.  As  we 
glided  over  the  water,  he  sang  a  little  Spanish  love- 
ditty  to  which  the  oars  kept  time,  dipping  softly  into 
the  lake,  and  lifting  the  waves  up  in  the  starlight,  to 
let  them  fall  again  in  myriads  of  glittering  drops. 

Poor  Grumpy,  overcome  by  the  bewitching  in 
toxication  of  the  hour,  looked  ready  to  fall  at  once 
upon  his  knees  before  Aunt  Prim,  to  declare  his 
devotion,  in  utter  f orgetf ulness  of  the  Widow  Dash. 
And,  under  the  circumstances,  my  paragon  aunt  might 
have  accepted  his  adoration,  and  with  downcast  eyes 
and  blushing  cheeks  might  have  vowed,  by  the  sweet 
stars  and  the  moon,  to  henceforth  keep  poor  Grum- 
py's  buttons  in  order !  Yes,  that's  what  a  man  ex 
pects  when  he  gets  married.  He  gets  a  wife  to  keep 
his  buttons  in  order. 

Fitz  Hugh  does  not  wear  buttons;  he  wears 
diamond  studs,  and  surely,  no  one  could  mind  look 
ing  after  them ! 

Love-making  is  of  course  apropos  to  a  moonlight 


64  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

night  upon  a  lake.  When  I  find  time,  I  am  going  to 
give  Fitz  Hugh  a  few  lessons  in  the  art.  At  present 
he  is  chiefly  absorbed  in  himself — and  there  is  nr 
need  of  being  in  haste,  since  among  so  many  beauties 
at  Saratoga,  he  might  become  too  proficient. 

And  one  finds  but  little  extra  time  at  a  waterinff- 

o 

place.  Talk  about  work !  Think  of  dressing  five 
times  a  day ;  of  riding,  walking,  or  boating,  flying 
from  one  amusement  to  another  all  day  long — and 
then,  when  the  day  is  over,  of  dancing  until  one  or 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

If  all  this  is  not  work,  I  should  like  to  know  what 


X. 


THE  day  commences  at  Saratoga  with  a  visit  to 
the  Springs  ;  and,  whoever  stands  beside  these  ever- 
living  fountains,  watching  the  crowds  of  people  that 
come  and  go,  cannot  but  remember  how  many 
have  come  hither  during  the  past  century,  from  the 
time  when  Yvrashington  visited  this  place  and 
thought  of  purchasing  it,  up  to  the  present  day, 
when  pilgrims  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world  to 
drink  of  the  sparkling  waters. 

And  how  mnny  feet  which  have  come  down  to 
the  bubbling  spring  have  passed  long  since  from 
earth  forever ! 

But  still  the  waters  gush  and  bubble  just  as  fresh, 
just  as  bright  and  sparkling  as  ever,  like  the  little 
brook  that  sang — 

"  And  men  may  come  and  men  may  go, 
But  I  flow  on  forever." 

Aunt  Prim  declares  that  of  all  the  springs  there  is 
none  so  refreshing,  none  whose  taste  is  BO  pleasant, 
as  the  Ilathorn. 

And  really  it  would  seem  from  her  enthusiasm 


66  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

about  this  spring  that  the  dear  old  lady  had  found 
a  veritable  Castaliaii  fount  in  the  land  of  the  setting 
sun,  which  would  Jbring  back  the  bloom  of  her 
youth  and  cause  her  to  live  forever.  Madge  says  she 
is  not  troubled  with  rheumatics,  refuses  to  taste  of 
the  waters  at  all,  and  thinks  the  best  use  the  springs 
could  be  put  to,  would  be  to  drown  troublesome 
beaux  in  them  !  And  this  wicked  girl  visits  them  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  laughing  at  the  wry  faces  of  the 
novices  as  they  set  down  their  half-emptied  glasses 
with  a  most  comical  grimace.  We  had  a  brilliant 
ball  last  night  at  the  Congress.  All  the  wit,  beauty, 
elegance,  and  fashion  in  Saratoga  were  there.  The 
evening  commenced  with  a  grand  masquerade  and 
fancy  dress  ball  for  the  little  folks.  They  entered 
with  the  greatest  zest  and  spirit  into  the  affair.  And, 
although  the  children  in  society  are  nowadays  all  min 
iature  gentlemen  and  ladies,  aping  the  airs  and  affec 
tations  of  their  elders,  the  little  belles  and  beaux  who 
figured  at  this  ball  were  evidently  brimming  over 
with  glee.  And  it  did  one's  heart  good  to  see  their 
bright  eyes  sparkle  with  all  the  happiness  of  child 
hood,  as  they  went  flying  through  the  dance  with 
little  feet  that  scarcely  touched  the  floor,  and  fairy 
ringlets  fluttering  in  the  waves  of  melody  which 
flowed  from  Bernstein's  band. 


THE  "GOOD  OLD  TIMES."  67 

Like  so  many  sprites  from  fairy  land  were  the 
children,  dressed  in  beautiful  and  fantastic  garb, 
their  silvery  laughter  ringing  musically  out  and 
mingling  with  the  chime  of  tiny  silver  bells,  which, 
fastened  on  their  costumes,  kept  time  as  they  danced. 

We  could  not  help  wishing  to  be  a  child  again 
while  gazing  upon  this  brilliant  scene.  The  chil 
dren's  ball  ended  at  10.30,  and  then  the  floor  was 
filled  with  the  grown-up  people,  women  elegantly 
dressed,  and  men  well-known  to  wealth  and  fame. 

Every  one  seemed  to  be  in  their  best  mood, 
but  the  free,  guileless  mirth  of  the  children  was 
lacking. 

The  foam  had  simmered  away  from  the  full 
goblet  of  life.  There  was  no  taste  of  the  dregs  at 
the  bottom  of  the  cup  ;  but  pleasure  in  fashionable 
life  soon  loses  its  novelty,  and  every  joy  is  welcomed 
without  enthusiasm. 

There  was,  of  course,  at  this  ball  a  fine  dis 
play  of  elegant  toilettes.  The  richest  silks,  point 
laces  and  diamonds,  were  by  far  too  common  to 
merit  any  special  attention.  And,  alas  !  the  more 
extravagant  the  beautiful  dresses,  the  costlier  and 
more  abundant  the  jewels,  the  oftener  was  the 
wearer  of  all  these  utterly  dependent  upon  outward 
finery,  upon  mere  ostentatious  wealth,  for  winning 


68  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

recognition  in  the  world.  The  blaze  of  brilliant 
diamonds  cannot  conceal  the  lack  of  those  inner 
jewels  of  the  soul,  which  shine  out  like  stars,  growing 
ever  brighter  as  the  night-time  deepens ;  the  rustle 
of  costly  silks  cannot  hide  the  frivolity  of  speech 
which  jars  so  often  upon  the  ear  when  mingling  in 
the  throng ;  nor  all  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  atone 
for  the  poverty  of  human  nature,  when  lacking  in  all 
that  makes  life  truly  rich  and  worth  living  for. 

It  is  amusing  sometimes  to  hear  the  dear  little 
old  ladies  and  their  elderly  escorts  lamenting,  with 
hearts  that  refuse  to  be  comforted,  the  good  old 
days  when  the  United  States  Hotel  existed  in 
Saratoga,  and  where  congregated  all  the  bright 
particular  stars  of  society.  But  if  those  days  were 
really  to  return,  it  is  doubtful  if  they  would  be  found 
more  attractive,  or  even  half  so  replete  with  comfort 
and  pleasure  as  are  those  of  the  present  time.  Think, 
my  dear  friend  with  the  silvery  hair,  and  the  fond 
heart  filled  with  longings  for  joys  which  can  never 
return — think  that  the  world  is  every  day  growing 
wiser  and  better,  and  that  it  is  you  who  cling  so 
tenaciously  to  the  golden  joys  of  the  past,  that  you 
often  neglect  to  taste  the  sweeter  pleasures  of  the 
present. 

Only  remember,  at  the  "  good  old  United  States," 


THE   "GOOD   OLD   TIMES."  69 

the  weary  stairs  you  had  to  climb  ;  the  small,  un 
comfortable  rooms  to  which  yon  resigned  yourself 
perhaps  without  a  murmur  ;  when  now,  if  you  wish 
to  go  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  floor  of  these 
immense  hotels,  you  have  only  to  ring  the  bell, 
and  a  beautiful  coach,  gilded  and  frescoed,  with 
cushions  covered  with  velvet,  awaits  your  bidding, 
and  you  are  carried  to  your  own  floor  without  the 
slightest  effort  of  your  own. 

Is  not  this  splendid  invention  of  the  elevator  the 
realization  of  Cinderella's  fairy  coach,  which  she 
summoned  at  will  in  the  days  of  yore  ? 

And  then  the  roonis  you  have — no  longer  small 
and  crowded,  but  large,  airy,  and  beautifully  fur 
nished — plenty  of  attention  without  paying  a  fee  for 
every  morsel  you  taste,  and  so  on,  my  dear  aged 
friend,  through  a  number  of  advantages  which  the 
present  has  over  the  past,  and  which,  perhaps,  1 
could  better  describe  had  I  myself  lived  in  the 
"  good  old  times  "  you  so  lament. 

There  is  one  relic  of  the  past  here  at  Saratoga  to 
whom  every  patriotic  heart  must  turn  with  loving 
veneration  and  fondness.  This  is  the  widow  of 
a  General  of  revolutionary  fame,  a  dear,  charming 
old  lady,  who  rejoices  truly  in  a  delightful  old  age, 
surrounded  bv  hosts  of  devoted  friends. 


70  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

How  few  lives,  like  hers,  glide  beautifully  and 
serenely  down  the  stream  of  life !  Long  may  she 
live  to  clasp  the  hands  of  those  who  seek  to  do  her 
homage  ;  to  be  a  link  between  the  dark  days  of  our 
country's  early  struggles  and  the  glorious  golden 
future  which  is  spread  out  before  her. 

There  is  a  great  deal  said,  and  undoubtedly  with 
truth,  about  feminine  folly  as  displayed  in  extrava 
gance  of  dress  at  watering-places,  but  folly  should 
not  always  be  represented  as  a  woman. 

Does  it  become  a  man  to  carry  a  lady's  parasol ; 
to  wear  a  long  veil ;  or  to  sport  a  feather  in  his  hat  ? 

Surely,  if  we  are  encroaching  upon  man's  sphere, 
lie  is  becoming  jealous  of  the  little  accessories 
women  are  fond  of  using  to  heighten  their  claims  to 
beauty. 

Since  this  seems  to  be  the  case,  I  would  advise  my 
dear  sisters  to  award  these  ambitious  men  the  orna- 
ental  (?)  chignon  they  have  discarded,  that  for  lack 
of  brains  the  fashionable  exquisite  may  cultivate  his 
hair. 

What  has  become  of  the  chignon  ? 

Ask  of  the  rag-men  who  go  their  dreary  rounds 
and  jangle  its  dirge  with  bells  all  out  of  tune,  as  they 
"  shovel  them  in,  shovel  them  in  !  " 

Surely  here  is  a  theme   fit  to  inspire  the  heart 


THE   "GOOD    OLD   TIMES."  71 

and  pen  of  some  enthusiastic  poet,  who  has  allowed 
his  heart  to  be  ensnared,  alas!  too  oft,  by  false 
alluring  curls. 

O 

The  chignon  is  happily  among  the  things  which 
are  no  more,  but  false  eyebrows  have  come  in. 

Eyebrows  which  are  so  constructed  as  to  bristle 
with  indignation  when  a  lover  with  an  empty  purse 
dares  to  plead  his  cause,  and  yet  droop  with  pitying 
air  when  love,  whose  coffers  are  full  of  gold, 
breathes  forth  its  plaint  at  beauty's  feet.  These 
wonderful  eyebrows  are  said  to  possess  the  merit 
of  hastening  proposals. 

Madge  says  she  will  never  patronize  them  for  that 
very  reason  alone,  since  courtship  is  the  sweetest 
time  in  life,  and  should  be  prolonged  indefinitely. 

Lovers  are  charming — but  husbands  and  bears  are 
synonymous ! 

Naughty  Madge!  She  is  having  a  desperate 
flirtation  with  a  handsome  Colonel,  and,  peeping 
into  her  mirror  this  morning,  was  thrown  into  hys 
terics  by  discovering  that  she  had  a  horrid  pimple 
on  the  tip  of  her  nose. 

I  wonder  if  the  Colonel  has  bravery  enough  to 
overlook  this  unlucky,  arid  decidedly  malapropos 
sortie  against  Madge's  bewitching  beauty. 

I  really  miiBt  lay  aside  my  pen,  and  go  down  to 


72  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

the  piazza  and  see.  There  is  nothing  in  the  world 
so  invincible  as  a  woman's  curiosity,  it  is  said,  and 
I  repeat  the  adage,  adding — except  a  man's. 

Nevertheless,  Aunt  Prim  is  taking  a  nap,  and  it 
is  plainly  my  duty  to  chaperon e  Miss  Madge. 

And  who  knows  what  Fitz  Hugh  is  about  while  I 
sit  here  scribbling  ? 


XL 

IN   THE   PARK. 

JUST  as  I  told  you  in  my  last,  I  found  that  way 
ward  Madge  flirting  desperately  upon  the  piazza  with 
the  Colonel. 

There  was  a  look  of  thrilling  disappointment 
upon  the  faces  of  the  two,  however,  which  I  at 
first  attributed  to  my  sudden  appearance;  but  I 
soon  found  that  Madge  and  the  Colonel  had  been 
down  to  take  a  ramble  in  the  Park,  and  lo !  they 
were  denied  admittance.  Now  it  is  well  known 
that  the  gentle  deer  roam  freely  over  the  velvety 
lawn  of  the  Park ;  but  just  at  this  time  one  of 
these  soft-eyed,  amiable  creatures  is  shedding  his 
horns,  and  refuses  to  allow  any  one  to  approach 
him.  It  is  thought  that  his  temper  has  been  spoiled 
by  the  example  set  him  by  the  capricious  belles  and 
intractable  youths  who  are  wont  to  ramble  through 
the  park.  However  this  may  be,  the  park  was 
closed  to  the  public,  and  a  grim  policeman  stationed 
at  the  entrance,  who  "rose  to  explain"  probably 


74:  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

much  oftener  than  was  agreeable  to  him,  and  the 
lordly  deer  was  left  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed." 

This  is  the  reason  that  Madge  and  the  Colonel 
did  not  enjoy  the  ramble  through  this  Arcadian 
grove  which  they  had  anticipated. 

But  to-day — the  irascible  young  deer  having  been 
placed  in  durance  vile,  until  he  can  learn  to  appre 
ciate  the  aristocracy  of  Saratoga  society  and  deport 
himself  becomingly — to-day  we  had  a  delightful 
ramble  in  this  same  park. 

And  what  a  charming  spot  it  is !  How  green  and 
smooth  the  sward,  how  majestic  the  tall  forest  trees, 
clad  in  ever-living  green  ;  how  cool  and  inviting  its 
shaded,  sequestered  nooks,  its  green,  velvety  banks, 
its  dark,  romantic  dells  ! 

Ah,  yes,  all  this  is  truly  delightful,  and  affords  a 
charming  taste  of  rural  pleasures  after  mingling  in 
the  gay  world  at  the  hotel. 

But,  alas !  for  "  the  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the 
lip,"  scarcely  have  you  advanced  on  the  smooth, 
hard  walk,  under  the  shadow  of  the  first  tree,  when 
you  are  warned  by  a  printed  placard,  "  Do  not 
touch  the  shrubbery ! " 

If  you  have  intended  to  gather"  a  few  green  leaves 
to  form  a  wreath  for  your  hat,  or  a  sprig  of  ever 
green  to  place  in  your  button-hole  as  a  souvenir  of 


IN    THE   PARK.  75 

Saratoga,  you  are  doomed  to  be  disappointed ;  for 
yon  are  instantly  confronted  with  "  Do  not  walk  on 
the  grass." 

Just  as  though  people  who  have  grown  weary 
from  travelling  for  years  over  hot  and  hard  pave 
ments  would  not  luxuriate  in  treading  once  more 
the  green  carpet  of  Nature,  fresh  and  beautiful  as 
ever,  and  bringing  back  the  sweet  memories  of 
childhood's  days. 

Well,  there  still  remained  the  gently  sloping 
banks,  covered  with  sparse  verdure.  Madge  and 
the  Colonel  evidently  fancied  that  they  might  rest 
in  one  of  these  sequestered  spots  and  have  a  little 
chat  all  by  themselves,  with  nobody  but  the  squirrels 
and  birds  for  eaves-droppers. 

But  no!  a  peremptory  order  to  "Keep  off  the 
bank  "  loomed  up  at  their  very  feet. 

Fitz  Hugh  said  that  in  the  face  of  such  deter 
mined  opposition  to  a  fellow's  enjoying  himself,  he 
was  inclined  to  do  something  desperate,  and  would 
endeavor  to  hug  one  of  the  marble  statues  which 
stood  so  silent  and  grim  above  us ;  but  he  should 
object  to  being  horrified  by  a  sepulchral  voice  ex 
claiming  in  his  ear,  "  Let  me  alone ! " 

Fitz  Hugh  and  "  yours  truly  "  not  being  given  to 
sentiment,  didn't  mind,  you  will  perceive,  the  pro- 


76  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

hibitions  of  the  park  ;  but  then  it  was  so  hard  upon 
poor  Madge  and  the  Colonel. 

There  is  just  one  seat  in  all  this  extensively  culti 
vated  wilderness,  upon  which  two  people  are  al 
lowed  to  sit  together. 

That  is,  to  sit  near  each  other,  for  all  the  other 
seats  are  so  arranged  as  to  place  you  about  ten  feet 
from  some  one  to  whom  you  would  perhaps  like  to 
whisper. 

No  need  of  their  putting  up  a  placard  with — 
"Don't  flirt  here  " — in  this  park,  for  could  anything 
be  more  suggestive  of  such  a  command  than  these 
seats,  which  have  the  air  of  defying  each  other  ? 

It  was  quite  evident  that  one  pair  of  youthful 
lovers  looked  forward  with  longing  eyes  and  beating 
hearts  to  that  one  seat — and  lo !  when  we  arrived 
there  who  should  be  occupying  the  self-same  seat 
but  Bachelor  Grumpy  and  Aunt  Prim ! 

It  was  too  much  !  In  fact,  it  was  rather  an  em 
barrassing  affair  on  all  sides,  since  Aunt  Prim  had 
given  out  that  she  was  going  to  take  a  nap  ;  and 
besides,  the  dear  old  lady  does  not  look  with  favor 
able  eyes  upon  the  Colonel,  which,  of  course,  only 
makes  him  the  more  precious  in  Madge's  eyes. 

That  girl  is  surely  afflicted  with  brass  buttons  or 
the  brain.  . 


IN    THE    PAKK.  77 

Not  far  from  this  one  solitary  lovers'  seat,  is  a 
small  circle  of  ground,  with  a  few  old  trees  upon 
it,  so  old  that  their  verdure  has  nearly  all  disap 
peared,  and  there  remains  only  a  crown  of  withered 
leaves  upon  their  tall  tops  ;  and  here  there  is  a  sign 
put  up,  which  informs  the  children  that  they  can 
"  play  upon  the  grass  within  the  circle." 

How  thankful  the  dear  children  ought  to  be  for 
this  inestimable  privilege !  But  I  should  like  to 
see  them  gather  ten  spears  of  real,  genuine  grass  in 
that  circle. 

To  roll  and  tumble  about  the  green  lawns  in  true 
childish  fashion  in  the  park,  to  chase  the  bright- 
eyed  squirrels  over  the  banks,  and  frolic  with  the 
deer,  would  undoubtedly  do  the  little  folks  who 
come  here  to  spend  the  season  a  world  of  good. 
But  no !  Young  America  dresses  like  his  papa,  car 
ries  a  cane,  wears  a  watch,  and  sports  a  diamond 
ring.  What  does  he  care  for  rolling  in  the  grass 
or  making  mud  pies  ? 

His  little  sister  is  dressed  as  elaborately  as  her 
stately  mamma ;  and  what  with  her  parasol,  her 
fan,  and  gloves,  has  no  hands  at  liberty  to  pull 
either  flowers  or  weeds.  Neither  has  she  the  faint 
est  idea  in  the  world  of  the  meaning  of  a  genuine 
romp. 


78  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

To  listen  to  a  group  of  these  youngsters  convers 
ing,  would  inspire  you  with  the  idea  that  you  were 
in  the  midst  of  a  party  of  elderly  dwarfs. 

Aunt  Prim  attributes  the  serenity  of  her  nerves 
to  the  plentiful  drinking  of  the  spring  waters. 
Madge  and  I  fancy  that  Bachelor  Grumpy's  recent 
arrival  has  something  to  do  with  it.  But,  being 
discreet  young  ladies,  we  have  never  hinted  our 
opinions  to  Aunt  P. 

We  have  a  real  live  count  and  countess  at  our 
hotel. 

"  But,  la  !  "  said  an  old  lady  this  morning.  "  I 
don't  see  but  they  look  just  like  other  folks  ;  dress 
like  other  folks  ;  and  the  only  good  sense  I've  seen 
about  them  is,  that  when  the  count  swears,  he  spares 
the  English  language,  and  uses  his  native  tongue." 


GEYSER    SPRING,    SARATOGA. 


XII. 

THE    GEYSER    SPRING. 

THERE  is  one  fact  which  must  always  be  a  source 
of  pathetic  regret  to  any  one  spending  the  season  at 
Saratoga,  and  that  is  that  the  human  hand  is  un 
luckily  so  constructed  as  to  allow  only  eight  fingers 
for  the  display  of  diamond  rings !  • 

It  is  really  painful  to  notice  how  much  of  gold, 
and  what  a  number  of  gems,  one  poor  finger  is  re 
quired  to  bear. 

Now,  if  Dame  Fashion  would  only  bring  thumbs 
into  vogue  as  ring-fingers,  that  they  also  might 
blaze  with  jewels,  what  an  inestimable  relief 
it  would  be  to  those  ladies  who  not  only  wear 
huge  cluster 'rings  upon  every  finger,  but  also  inter 
sperse  these  with  some  half  dozen  or  more  golden 
circlets,  ornamented  with  emeralds,  rubies,  etc.,  etc. 

Or,  since  a  pride  in  costly  jewels  seems  to  be  the 
ruling  passion  in  so  many  hearts,  why  not  resign 
the  nose  to  be  adorned  with  gems  as  well  as  the 
ears? 

It  would   be   quite   as   Christian   a  custom,  and 


80  SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

would  certainly  offer  one  more  chance  to  dazzle  the 
eyes  of  society  with  brilliancy. 

Alas,  for  the  days  when  gems  were  worn,  not  for 
ornament  alone,  but  for  the  occult  meaning  which 
flashed  in  their,  lambent  fires. 

There  is  not  a  spark  of  sentiment  in  most  of  the 
jewels  which  blaze  in  Saratoga.  They  serve  merely 
to  enhance  beauty,  and  as  tokens  of  ostentatious 
wealth. 

How  many  ladies  watch  the  glow  in  their  dia 
monds  to  learn  of  the  truth  or  falseness  of  the 
giver?  How  many  dream  that  the  opal,  with  its 
rainbow  tints,  brings  ill-luck  to  the  wearer  ?  How 
many  feel  the  charmed  spell  which  the  emerald 
sheds  around  it ;  or  see  the  heart-drops  of  some 
loved  one  in  the  blood-red  ruby  ? 

Those  who  wear  jewels  right  royally,  wear  them 
not  for  their  beauty  and  value  alone,  but  also  for  the 
deep  significance  they  bear. 

Yesterday  we  had  a  charming  drive  to  the  Geyser 
Spring.  Aunt  Prim  was  far  too  dignified  to  ride  in 
the  public  stage,  and  as  she  rolled  along  in  state 
over  the  sandy  country  road  in  her  elegant  barouche, 
complacent  as  a  full-blown  sunflower,  with  Bachelor 
Grumpy  seated  beside  her,  she  expatiated  upon  the 
beauty  of  the  scenery. 


THE   GEYSEE  SPRING.  81 

Probably  she  meant  the  bachelor,  as  she  had  not 
her  glasses  on,  and  therefore  her  eyes  were  unavail 
able  for  looking  beyond  the  barouche. 

Madge  and  I  preferred  the  stage  with  the  rest  of 
our  party.  What  a  crowd  there  was  in  that  stage ! 

There  was  the  Fat  Boy,  who  took  up  so  much 
room,  and  La  Petite,  who  was  arrayed  in  such  an 
elaborately  fluted  and  be-ruffled  dress  that  she  was 
in  constant  horror  lest  the  Fat  Boy  should  sit  too 
close,  and  Madge,  who  didn't  care  a  snap  for  the 
ruffles  on  her  dress,  had  no  thought  for  the  enormous 
sash  she  wore,  and  therefore  rumpled  it  terribly. 

But  what  else  could  be  expected  of  a  young  lady, 
who  has  gilt  buttons  on  the  brain,  and  who  gives  all 
her  precious  time  to  flirting  with  the  Colonel  ? 

The  G-eyser  Spring  is  one  of  the  greatest  curiosi 
ties  in  Saratoga.  The  water  comes  spouting  up 
from  the  earth,  rising  to  a  height  of  thirty  or  forty 
feet,  and,  breaking  into  a  misty  spray,  falls  in  mil 
lions  of  jewelled  drops,  with  a  musical,  tinkling 
sound,  back  to  the  fount  again. 

One  jet  of  this  water  is  thrown  into  a  large 
crystal  globe,  where  it  surges  and  boils  without 
ceasing — a  veritable  witches'  caldron. 

Madge  suggests  that  this  water  is  kept  boiling  by 

the  subterranean  fires  at  which  the  Gnomes,  the 
4* 


82  SPAKKLES    FliOM    SARATOGA. 

Trolls,  and  all  those  funny  little  underground  folks 
are  cooking  their  dinners. 

The  Fat  Boy  laughed  himself  into  a  shower  of 
perspiration  at  this  odd  fancy  of  Madge's,  which 
made  Fitz  Hugh  terribly  nervous.  Fitz  Hugh  never 
laughs — he  only  dawns  an  aristocratic  smile  upon 
you! 

After  we  had  exhausted  our  admiration  upon  the 
spouting  water,  snuffed  up  the  carbonic  acid  gas 
which  arises  from  its  depths,  quaffed  each  other's 
happiness  from  its  sparkling  goblets,  and  inspected 
the  vast  number  of  broken  bottles  this  vivacious 
fluid  destroys  before  it  submits  to  the  loss  of  its 
freedom — after  all  this,  the  man  who  attends  the 
spring,  struck  by  the  imposing  presence  of  the  Fat 
Boy,  the  faultless  propriety  of  La  Petite* s  cos 
tume,  the  sparkling  eyes  of  Miss  Madge,  and  the 
aristocratic  air  of  the  company  generally,  pathetically 
begged  us  to  sit  a  few  moments  for  our  pictures. 

Unthinking  of  coming  martyrdom,  we  complied. 
We  were  seated  just  back  of  the  silvery  falling  mist 
of  the  Spring,  told  that  it  would  require  about  five 
minutes  to  take  a  good  picture,  and  warned  not  to 
move.  Oh,  what  an  impostor  that  man  was !  For 
twenty  long  minutes  at  least  we  sat  there,  im 
movable  as  statues. 


THE   GEYSER   SPRING.  83 

The  weather  was  frightfully  warm;  streams  of 
glistening  drops  rolled  down  the  poor  Fat  Boy's 
face,  and  a  fly  alighted  upon  the  tip  of  his  nose,  and 
refused  to  spread  his  wings  for  flight ;  and  yet  the 
Fat  Boy  was  forbidden  to  move  ! 

Aunt  Prim  sat  upright  and  rigid  as  an  icicle,  and 
Bachelor  Grumpy,  unused  to  keeping  quiet,  ner 
vously  twitched  his  toes,  because,  as  he  said  after 
ward,  he  "  thought  they  wouldn't  show  in  the  pict 
ure"  which  unfortunate  remark  absolutely  horrified 
Aunt  Prim. 

Minute  after  minute  rolled  away,  and  every  sec 
ond  seemed  an  hour,  until  we,  who  had  sat  down 
smiling,  became  as  sombre  and  grave  as  so  many 
Egyptian  mummies. 

Never  will  you  catch  our  party  sitting  for  pict 
ures  again  at  Geyser  Spring. 

This  spouting  water  was  recently  discovered,  and 
is  claimed  to  possess  more  medicinal  properties  than 
any  other  Spring.  The  taste  of  the  water  is  very 
much  like  that  of  the  Hathorn  Spring,  and  is  gener 
ally  liked. 

A  short  distance  from  the  Geyser  is  the  White 
Sulphur  Spring. 

Why  it  should  be  called  white  is  a  mystery,  since 
the  water  has  a  yellowish  tint,  and  tastes  as  though 


84  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

Pluto  and  his  imps  had  been  wont  to  slake  their 
thirst  at  the  stream  before  it  found  its  way  upward 
to  the  sunlight.  The  water  is  remarkably  clear. 

These  two  springs  are  located  in  a  romantic 
wood ;  near  by  is  a  pretty  fall  of  foam-crested 
water,  and  a  stream  beneath  as  clear  and  limpid  as 
a  mirror,  spanned  by  two  slender  bridges  which 
creaked  wof  ully  as  the  Fat  Boy  passed  over,  and  af 
forded  a  charming  opportunity  for  Aunt  Prim  to 
display  a  little  nervousness,  and  to  cling  closely  to 
her  escort's  arm. 

Crossing  that  bridge  by  moonlight  might  induce 
the  Bachelor  to  propose. 

I'd  like  to  mention  it  to  Aunt  P.,  but  she  would 
overpower  me  with  her  wrath. 

What  a  fall  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous ! 

The  Count  and  Countess  just  arrived  from  Paris, 
whom  all  the  beau  monde  were  dying  to  see,  have 
opened  a  jeweller's  shop  here  on  Broadway. 

Think  of  it,  foreign  nobility  catering  to  the 
wants  of  a  republic ! 

Sic  transit  gloria  mundi  ! 


XIII. 

AFTER    DINNER. 

THE  greatest  flirts  in  Saratoga  are  the  married 
men — especially  those  who  have  left  their  faithful 
wives  at  home. 

"  Go  to  the  sea-side,  .dear,  or  to  some  watering- 
place,  and  don't  mind  me.  I'll  stay  at  home,  but 
you  need  recreation  from  business ;  so  go." 

The  obedient  husband  complies,  and  generally 
contrives  to  enjoy  himself,  according  to  the  wishes 
of  his  absent  spouse. 

But  unfortunately  all  the  Benedicts  do  not  belong 
to  the  class  whose  wives  are  aware  of  their  where 
abouts. 

Next  to  the  married  men — (married  women  have 
too  much  conscience  usually  to  flirt) — the  widows 
are  pronounced  to  be  the  nearest  aufait  in  the  art  of 
heart-breaking.  There  is  nothing  like  a  gay  widow 
for  creating  a  sensation  wherever  she  appears.  And 
the  widows  usually  have  no  remorse  for  the  pangs 
which  pierce  the  hearts  of  their  adorers.  Having 
been  themselves  the  victims  of  some  man's  caprices, 


86  SPABKLES   FitOM   SARATOGA. 

they  solace  their  loneliness  by  revenging  themselves 
upon  the  masculine  sex  in  general  by  the  most 
wicked  coquetry. 

"  Samivel,  beware  of  the  vidders ! "  said  the 
anxious  parent  to  his  son,  and  all  "  Samivels  "  would 
perhaps  do  well  to  follow  this  advice. 

The  sultriness  of  the  dog  days  is  upon  us  here  as 
well  as  in  the  far-off  Gotham,  but  there  is  ever  a 
cool,  delightful  breeze  to  be  enjoyed  upon  the 
piazzas,  or  a  safe  retreat  from  the  fervid  sun  to  be 
found  in -the  quiet  shadows  of  the  Park. 

And  there  are"  always  the  cold,  invigorating 
waters  of  the  springs,  free  to  all,  where  every  one 
may  come  to  slake  his  thirst,  and  fancy  or  believe, 
that  some  magic  power  lurks  in  the  sparkling  waters 
which  may  restore  the  lost  bloom  of  youth,  bring 
health  and  rosiness  to  the  pale  invalid,  and  pour 
inspiration  into  the  weary  brain  of  the  thinker. 

If  there  be  really  any  merit  in  mineral  waters  of 
inestimable  value  to  man,  it  surely  ought  to  be  found 
in  these  cool,  bubbling  fountains. 

•It  may  be  written  down  as  a  fact,  that  very 
many  elderly  men  and  women,  habitues  of  Saratoga, 
speak  volumes  in  themselves  of  the  marvellous 
efficacy  of  the  Spring  waters,  since  in  no  other  place 
seems  ever  to  be  gathered  so  mar  y  "  immense  "  men 


AFTER   DINNER.  87 

and  women  of  advanced  years  as  here.  This  is  a 
subject  of  general  remark,  and  many  a  new  arrival 
of  a  modern  giant  or  giantess  forces  us  to  ask,  Are 
we  returning  to  the  days  of  the  Titans  ? 

One  of  the  pleasantest  hours  of  the  day  is  after 
dinner,  when  the  people  gather  upon  the  piazza  oi 
Congress  Hall  to  listen  to  the  music  of  the  band. 
This  is  one  of  the  features  of  the  place.  A  regular 
programme  is  published  every  day,  and  throngs 
of  people  come  from  the  neighboring  hotels  to 
listen. 

It  is  truly  an  hour  for  the  dolce  far  niente*  when 
one  may  indulge  in  the  most  fanciful  day-dreams, 
sitting  under  the  shade  of  a  parasol  or  of  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  and  linking  golden  thoughts  of  love 
and  romance  together  with  dulcet  strains  of  melody. 

How  gently  floats  love's  young  and  ardent  dream 
upon  the  waves  of  song  ! 

It  would  be  cruel  to  tell  of  all  the  endless  flirta 
tions  which  are  carried  on  under  the  influence  of 
music  upon  the  piazza. 

Madge's  black  eyes  have  almost  annihilated  me 
already  for  mentioning  her  and  the  Colonel,  and  so, 
reluctantly,  I  forbear  to  speak  of  hearts  forever 
ensnared  or  cruelly  broken,  while  the  delicious 
music  throws  its  weird  spell  over  all. 


88  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

The  favorite  employment  of  the  ladies  at  this  time 
is  working  in  bright-colored  worsteds.  "What  monu 
ments  of  patience  and  industry  they  are  ! 

The  poor  dears !  How  quietly  they  accept  the 
compliments  bestowed  upon  their  skill  in  weaving 
the  gorgeous  flowers  and  birds  with  brilliant  plum 
age,  which  adorn  the  bit  of  canvas  upon  which  they 
work. 

It  is  rather  wicked  to  open  the  eyes  of  their 
admiring  adorers  to  the  fact  that  these  elaborate 
patterns  are  all  wrought  in  the  fancy  stores,  and 
Miss  Industry  sets  about  the  simple  task  of  filling 
up  the  groundwork ! 

The  usual  amount  of  labor  performed  by  these 
industrious  ladies  after  dinner  may  be  estimated  as 
averaging  three  stitches  a  day  ! 

The  old  ladies  here  are  as  gay  and  youthful  as 
the  unmarried  belles. 

Youth  may  be  expected  to  go  the  round  of  fashion 
able  dissipation  with  unfaded  cheeks,  but  it  is  won 
derful  to  see  how  the  old  ladies  mingle  in  all  the 
festivities  of  Saratoga,  and  apparently  enjoy  them 
selves  with  the  gayest  of  the  gay. 

Well  may  the  youthful  belle  look  to  her  laurels, 
for  who  so  elaborately  dressed,  so  be-puffed,  be- 
ruffled,  be-ribboned,  be-je welled,  as  the  rich  old 


AFTEE   DINNER.  89 

lady  who  comes  to  pass  the  season  at  Saratoga  ? 
If  she  be  a  beaming,  good-natnred  widow,  what 
scores  of  ancient  adorers  she  counts  in  her  train ! 
If  married,  she  becomes  the  centre  of  a  bevy  of 
elderly  dames  who  admire  and  envy  her  dresses,  her 
carriage,  her  jewels,  and  flatter  her  into  the  belief 
that  she  is  looking  "  just  as  young  as  ever." 

Aunt  Prim  has  reformed — that  is,  she  now  con 
sents  to  add  propriety  to  the  ball-room  by  her 
august  presence,  while  last  year  she  would  have 
filled  the  air  with  thunder-clouds  by  her  frowns  in 
such  a  scene. 

But  who  could  object  to  a  ball  when  the  band 
plays  such  enchanting  music?  So  bewitching  a 
charm  might  tempt  even  the  most  scrupulous  to  join 
in  the  naughty  waltz,  and  even  Aunt  Prim  some 
times  forgets  to  frown  on  Madge  as  she  goes  whirl 
ing  by  upon  the  arm  of  some  adorer. 

It  may  easily  be  believed  that  "  music  hath 
charms  to  sooth  the  savage  breast,"  if  it  can  soften 
the  prejudices  of  Aunt  Prim.  Not  that  the  dear 
old  lady  is  at  all  savage ,  but  then  she  is  so  terribly 
set  in  her  ways. 

And  such  people  do  sometimes  possess  the  faculty 
of  making  other  people  decidedly  uncomfortable. 


90  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

For  how  can  one  be  expected  to  shine  when  there  is 
always  a  thunder-cloud  gathering  ? 

There  is  a  strange  mixture  of  piety  and  frivolity 
at  the  Springs.  While  hundreds  of  people  come 
expressly  to  dance  and  make  merry  every  passing 
hour,  just  as  many  others  come  to  point  out  the 
wickedness  and  folly  of  worldly  pleasures,  and  the 
fearful  brevity  of  time.  You  may  leave  the 
crowded  parlor,  filled  with  a  brilliant  throng  of 
richly  dressed  women  and  courtly  men  of  the  world, 
where  the  glitter  of  the  lamps,  the  hum  of  many 
voices,  the.  merry  laugh,  the  innocent  jest,  and  the 
soft  tones  of  music  stealing  in  from  the  ball-room, 
all  conspire  to  lend  a  witching  charm  to  the  hour, 
and  to  make  every  one  happy  within  himself  ;  and 
just  a  little  way  up  the  street,  not  five  minutes' 
walk,  you  may  enter  a  church  just  as  crowded  as 
the  brilliant  drawing-room  you  have  left,  and  there 
you  will  be  told  that  all  worldly  pleasures  are  sinful ; 
that  the  awful  day  of  judgment  approaches,  and 
that  all  should  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  But 
when  the  hour  of  worship  is  over,  many  of  these 
church-goers  return  to  the  hotels  and  mingle  with 
the  wicked  world  they  have  just  heard  denounced, 
without  apparently  the  least  fear  of  corruption  from 
"  evil  communications." 


XIV. 

ADONIS    AT   THE   BALL. 

THE  young  gentlemen  visiting  Saratoga  tlink  of 
holding  a  meeting  for  the  purpose  of  demanding 
their  rights. 

A  great  deal  of  dissatisfaction  has  been  occasioned 
among  these  fashionable  youths  from  the  fact  that 
they  have  appeared  at  every  evening  hop  and  ball 
of  the  season  in  the  most  elaborate  attire,  and  yet 
not  the  slightest  mention  of  their  appearance  has 
been  made  in  the  papers. 

If  young  ladies  complain  that  they  have  not  been 
"  noticed  "  in  print,  what  shall  this  army  of  indig 
nant  young  men  say  at  this  shameful  neglect  of 
them? 

In  order  that  this  state  of  things  shall  exist  no 
more,  and  that  wounded  vanity  may  be  soothed,  we 
will  attempt  to  describe  "  a  few  of  the  toilettes 
worn  "  by  the  gentlemen  present  at  the  last  grand 
ball. 

Madge  has  agreed  to  furnish  a  few  notes. 

Fitz  Hugh  says  that  his  name  is  not  to  be  men- 


92  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

tioned,  therefore  we  leave  to  fancy  the  task  of  por 
traying  the  appearance  of  this  charming  youth  upon 
this  particular  occasion.  Let  it  suffice  to  say  that 
Fitz  Hugh  is  always  adorable. 

Mr.  Snifkins,  a  keen  young  lawyer  from  the 
South,  was  tastefully  dressed  in  a  claw-hammer 
coat,  lavender  pantaloons,  lavender  necktie,  patent- 
leather  boots,  and  his  imposing  forehead  was  uncon 
cealed  by  an  excess  of  hair.  Yellow  moustache, 
decidedly  en  train,  gracefully  drooping  two  inches 
over  his  lips. 

Don  Carlos  Louis  Pietro  Yalmaseda  y  de  Castro,  a 
tall  young  Spaniard  with  a  distingue  air,  wore  a 
black  frock  coat,  light  pantaloons,  white  necktie, 
and  his  mass  of  black  hair  brushed  upright,  d  la 
Pompadour. 

Madge  was  much  impressed  by  his  appearance, 
and  thought  she  would  like  to  have  a  flirtation  with 
this  dark-eyed  youth,  but  Miss  Airs  said  he  was 
too  fierce,  and  that  she  would  be  absolutely  afraid 
of  him. 

Fitzaddle  was  as  gushing  as  ever,  in  a  new 
swallow-tail,  black  inexpressibles,  heavenly-blue 
cravat,  side-whiskers,  and  moustache  dressed  with 
elaborate  care.  Bald  on  the  crown  of  his  head. 

Young  Gingersnap  caused  a  flutter  of  admiration 


ADONIS    AT   THE   BALL.  93 

« 

among  a  bevy  of  belles  as  he  entered  the  room, 
bringing  the  perfumed  spices  of  Araby  with  him. 
and  presenting  the  most  faultless  toilette  of  the 
evening.  Black,  swallow-tailed  coat — French  swal 
low,  not  American — black  double-perpendiculars, 
white  vest,  inimitable  linen,  diamond  solitaire  studs, 
and  cravat  of  white  point-lace.  Hair  parted  in  the 
middle  ;  ambrosial  curls  arranged  in  profusion  upon 
each  side.  White  kids. 

Gingersnap  is  said  to  be  the  handsomest  man  in 
New  York.  Of  course  he  is  one  of  the  "  reigning  " 
beaux  of  Saratoga.  It  is  estimated  that  he  has 
broken  at  least  a  thousand  tender  hearts  during  this 
season. 

The  poor  dears  !  It  is  not  yet  certain  which  has 
most  captivated  them,  the  ambrosial  curls  or  the 
diamond  solitaires. 

Mr.  Limberflap  seemed  to  be  the  next  favorite 
with  the  young  ladies,  being  a  pale,  melancholy- 
looking  youth,  addicted  to  writing  verses,  and  also 
perfectly  versed  in  the  art  of  making  compliments. 
His  general  character  may  perhaps  be  best  de 
scribed  as  being  slightly  enthused.  Limberflap 
wears  eye-glasses,  and  has  met  with  a  sad  loss  of 
hair. 

In  fact,  the  excess  of  bald  heads  and  weak  eyes 


94:  SPARKLES   FKOM   SARATOGA. 

among  the  young  men  who  visit  Saratoga  is  no  doubt 
to  be  attributed  to  the  overflow  of  ideas  and  the 
great  mental  labor  performed  by  them. 

Claw-hammer  coats  and  bald  heads  may  be 
safely  said  to  be  a  distinguishing  feature  of  every 
fashionable  ball. 

As  we  have  not  time  at  present  to  particularize 
further  as  to  masculine  toilettes  at  the  ball,  we  will 
only  mention  a  few  names  of  those  present : 

Mr.  Goldfinch,  the  "  catch  "  of  the  season,  whose 
father  revels  in  gold  mines,  etc. ;  Mr.  Adolphus 
Swantree,  who  flushes  his  cheeks  with  paint,  and 
powders  his  hair  upon  full-dress  occasions ;  Judge 
Darling,  who  has  been  twenty  years  to  Saratoga  in 
search  of  a  rich  wife,  and  has  not  as  yet  found  her. 
Poor  fellow !  How  strange  that  no  one  is  willing  to 
become  "  the  old  man's  Darling !  " 

Fitz   Hush  has   conceived   a  horrid    idea.     He 

O 

talks  of  having  the  back  of  his  head  shaved,  since 
nearly  every  young  man  in  fashionable  life  has  a 
bald  spot  upon  the  top  of  his  head.  In  fact,  a 
young  man  is  scarcely  considered  eligible,  unless  he 
has  lost  his  hair  and  wears  eye-glasses — these 
being  received  as  almost  indisputable  evidence  that 
he  has  always  moved  in  the  best  society. 

Now  that  we  have  paid  due  homage  to  masculine 


ADONIS    AT   THE   BALL.  95 

finery,  and  have  fairly  represented  Adonis  at  the 
ball,  we-  turn  our  thoughts  to  the  fairer  sex,  and  to 
the  marvellous  gait  which  is  now  in  vogue  with  our 
belles.  But  are  we  able  to  adequately  describe  this 
latest  acquirement  in  this  fine  art  of  walking? 
Alas !  our  pen  falters,  and  our  courage  fails  before 
the  arduous  task. 

What  young  lady  can,  for  one  momejit,  imagine 
that  she- appears  graceful  as  she  moves  up  and  down 
the  long  piazza  with  the  Saratoga  wriggle  f 

The  old  ladies  and  the  children  are  the  only 
feminines  who  deign  to  walk  naturally.  The 
young  belle,  as  she  promenades,  draws  a  long  train 
behind  her,  this  train  being  surmounted  by  a  be 
wildering  arrangement  of  puffs,  ruffles,  etc.,  styled 
&panier  /  and  resting  upon  all  this,  is  a  bright- 
colored  sash  of  marvellous  width.  Now  this  almost 
indescribable  confusion  of  dry-goods  is  twitched, 
first  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left ;  then  it  receives 
a  gentle  shake,  very  like  to  that  which  an  old  hen 
gives  in  settling  her  ruffled  feathers  !  And  this,  as 
near  as  I  can  convey  any  idea  of  it,  is  the  Saratoga 
wriggle  ! 

With  her  head  erect,  her  body  bent  forward,  her 
little  feet  tilted  up  in  dainty  slippers  with  heels 
three  inches  high,  the  Saratoga  belle  ambulates  up 


96  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

and  down  the  piazza,  now  smiling,  and  now  froA7n- 
ing  upon  her  crowd  of  admirers,  who  do  their 
best  to  escape  being  tripped  up  in  the  folds  of  her 
long  train. 

Ah,  me !  I  wonder  if  they  succeed  as  well  in 
escaping  the  entanglement  of  her  bewildering 
charms  ? 

I  have  to.  keep  a  sharp  lookout  upon  Fitz  Hugh  ! 
I  should  be  sorry  to  see  the  dear  fellow  so^egregi- 
ously  taken  in,  as  he  might  be,  did  I  not  kindly 
play  the  duenna  over  him. 

If  any  young  man  is  indulging  himself  with  fond 
dreams  of  marrying  one  of  these  fashionable  beau 
ties,  I  would  advise  him  not  to  be  rash,  but  to  in 
vest  in  a  large  doll,  which  he  may  dress  in  rich 
silks,  and  decorate  with  costly  gems ;  may  furnish 
with  curls, braids,  "switches,"  and  "rats,"  paint  and 
powder,  slippers,  fans,  and  gloves  ad  infinitum,  and 
set  it  up  in  his  heart  to  adore ! 

I  think  he  would  find  his  doll  quite  as  much  of 
a  companion,  and  certainly  a  less  expensive  one, 
than  his  fair  Saratoga  belle  would  prove  herself  to 
be. 


MISS    AIRS. 


XV. 

MISS   AIRS. 

had  a  new  divertissement  in  Saratoga  last 
evening.  The  gas  suddenly  went  out,  and  the 
thousands  of  people  assembled  here  were  left,  to 
their  great  dismay,  in  the  dark.  The  ladies  were 
busily  engaged  in  preparing  for  the  grand  ball  an 
nounced  for  that  evening,  and  great  was  the  be 
wilderment  of  hair-dressers  and  ladies'  maids,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  disappointment  of  their  fair  mis 
tresses.  The  ball,  of  course,  was  postponed,  and 
everybody  clamored  for  the  "  Saratoga  Dip." 

The  "Dip"  soon  appeared,  in  the  shape  of  in 
numerable  candles  which  cast  a  dim,  mysterious 
light  through  the  great  parlors,  and  the  vast  halls 
became  the  scene  of  many  a  ghostly  terror,  since 
there  was  nothing  to  relieve  the  grim  darkness,  save 
now  and  then  a  sable  waiter  appearing  far  in  the 
distance  bearing  a  twinkling  taper,  his  great  eyes 
rolling  horribly  and  his  white  apron  fluttering  in  the 
gloom  like  the  garb  of  a  ghost. 

In  the  parlors  the  young  people,  and,  I  dare  say, 


98  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

the  old,  also,  improved  the  opportunity  for  carrying 
on  sly  flirtations,  and  so  great  was  the  confusion  that 
the  Colonel  came  very  near  hugging  Aunt  Prim  in 
the  dark  instead  of  Miss  Madge.  It  was  amusing  to 
hear  the  excuses  and  apologies  offered  as  soon  as  the 
lights  appeared.  The  untimely  failure  of  the  gas, 
after  all,  afforded  a  in'eat  fund  of  amusement  to 

"  O 

those  people  who  are  inclined  to  look  cheerfully 
upon  the  bright  side  of  even  a  tallow  dip.  A 
"  shadow  dance "  was  improvised  in  the  parlor  as 
being  exceedingly  apropos  to  the  occasion.  The 
presence  of  an  English  nobleman  created  quite  a 
flutter  among  the  belles. 

Madge  snubbed  the  Colonel  dreadfully  when  she 
captured  the  "  live  lord,"  and  walked  away  with  him 
to  try  the  effect  of  Republican  eyes  in  conquering  an 
English  aristocrat. 

How.  she  succeeded  I  am  unable  to  say,  but  she 
says  he's  "nice,"  and  just  as  good  as  though  he 
were  not  a  lord.  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  among 
the  distinguished  people  who  attended  the  last  ball, 
the  presence  of  Miss  Airs,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Puffy. 

Miss  Airs,  as  is  her  wont,  appeared  in  a  most 
elaborate  toilette.  This,  the  pen  of  a  graphic 
writer  might  easily  describe,  but  were  I  asked  to 
mention  one-half  of  the  infinite  number  of  arts  and 


MISS   AIRS.  99 

wiles,  of  frowns  and  smiles,  of  studied  graces  and 
endless  caprices,  with  which  Miss  Airs  contrives  to 
captivate  her  adorers,  I  should  expire  upon  the 
spot. 

Arid  then  her  walk,  as  she  promenaded  around 
the  ball-room,  the  "  observed  of  all  observers !  " 

The  Grecian  Bend  has  passed  away ;  but  what 
name  shall  be  given  to  the  new  defo unity  which 
foolish  women  attach  to  their  backs  to  impart  what 
they  consider  style  to  their  costume  ? 

Truly  the  camel  has  some  excuse  for  wearing  a 
hump,  since  from  it  he  gains  both  sustenance  and 
strength  to  support  him  through  long  journeys  ;  but 
of  what  use  is  the  monstrous  hump  which  Miss  Airs 
considers  as  indispensable  to  a  full-dress  toilette,  ex 
cept  it  be  a  vade  mecum  of  feeding  foolish  pride  ? 

With  face  and  neck  both  powdered  and  painted  ; 
with  hair  frizzled  to  the  last  degree  of  the  coiffeurs 
art ;  with  shoulders  raised  and  brought  forward ; 
with  body  inclined  to  an  obtusje  angle,  the  better  to 
follow  an  obtuse  head ;  with  panier  so  arranged  as 
to  extend  two  feet  in  the  rear  over  a  court  train 
which  sweeps  the  floor,  Miss  Airs,  leaning  upon  the 
arm  of  her  dear  Addlepate,  sets  forth  for  a  prome 
nade. 

For  long,  mortal  hours  has  she  practised  before 


100          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

her  mirror,  and  now  witness  the  triumph  of  her 
skill  in  the  art  of  walking. 

The  right  foot  is  placed  forward — then  follows  a 
halt — then  the  left  is  brought  suddenly  up  with  a 
twitch  which  gives  an  indescribable  motion  to  the 
ribbons  and  laces  upon  the  hump,  and  causes  a  gen 
eral  flutter  of  ruffles  and  flounces,  which  forbids  the 
idea  of  the  elaborate  toilette  of  Miss  Airs  ever  being 
lost  in  its  wearer. 

To  nothing  under  heaven  may  the  walk  of  Miss 
Airs,  as  she  sallies  around  the  ball-room,  be  com 
pared,  except  to  the  proud  strutting  of  the  peacock 
as  it  spreads  its  brilliant  plumage  for  admiration. 

Saratoga  has  its  "  Bridge  of  Smiles  "  which  spans 
the  street  about  fifty  feet  above  the  ground  and  con 
nects  the  ball-room  of  Congress  Hall  with  the  hotel. 
Upon  festive  nights  it  is  spread  with  a  rich  carpet, 
and  illuminated  with  Chinese  lanterns  of  various 
colors.  If  the  night  be  stormy,  the  bridge  is  pro 
tected  by  an  awning,  but  if  fine,  it  affords  a  rare 
opportunity  for  contemplating  the  starry  heavens,  or 
for  a  pair  of  lovers  to  whisper  soft  nothings  into 
each  other's  ears  while  .they  pretend  to  be  watching 
the  moon. 

In  fact,  no  more  romantic  place  for  a  moonlight 
flirtation  could  well  be  imagined  than  this  beautiful 


MISS   AIRS.  101 

bridge,  with  its  swinging  lights,  with  its  far-off 
canopy  of  blue  studded  with  twinkling  stars,  and 
the  soft,  delicious  music  of  the  band  floating  out 
upon  the  night  from  the  brilliant  ball-room. 

If  there  were  not  always  that  Argus-eyed  ticket- 
man  at  the  other  end  of  the  bridge  to  spoil  the 
romance ! 

Many  a  time  have  I  heard  young  Limberflap  com 
plain  of  the  heat  of  the  room  after  a  dance,  and 
beg  Miss  Airs  to  come  for  a  few  minutes  upon  the 
bridge. 

Limberflap,  as  w.e  have  said,  is  a  sentimental 
youth  who  is  given  to  writing  verses.  But  if  he 
needs  the  presence  of  Miss  Airs  upon  the  bridge  to 
inspire  him  when  he  composes  ditties  to  the  moon, 
then  those  ditties  will  lack  inspiration,  for  Miss  Airs 
always  remembers  that  ticket-man,  and  gently 
refuses. 

Besides,  she  is  not  much  given  to  romance,  and 
she  has  enough  of  Limberflap's  adoring  glances  in 
the  ball-room,  without  endangering  the  starch  in  her 
muslins,  and  the  crimp  in  her  hair,  out  there  in  the 
damp.  There  are  other  reasons  also  for  Miss  Airs 
refusing  to  walk  upon  the  bridge  with  Limberflap. 

The  end  of  the  season  is  drawing  near,  and  there 
is  Snipkins,  the  "  only  son  of  his  father,"  and  that 


102  RPAKKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

father  a  millionaire,  and  Miss  Airs  has  not  as  yet 
made  the  slightest  impression  upon  his  heart. 

What  will  her  mother  say  ?  This  may  be  her  last 
season  at  Saratoga,  for  the  finances  of  the  family 
are  running  low,  and  one  cannot  be  turning  old 
silks  forever!  Should  Snipkins  ask  her  to  walk 
upon  the  bridge,  regardless  either  of  the  damp  air 
or  of  the  ticket-man,  she  would  go. 

The  masquerade  ball  had  been  looked  forward  to 
by  this  rather  passe  belle  as  affording  her  one  last 
grand  opportunity  of  appearing  in  a  new  phase,  in 
which  she  might  possibly  captivate  Snipkins.  She 
chose  the  costume  of  a  Swiss  shepherdess,  and  im 
agined  herself  to  be  the  very  personification  of  in 
nocence  and  loveliness. 

But  whoever  saw  a  rural  maiden  walking  with  a 
crook  in  her  back,  instead  of  in  her  hands — and  her 
hands  swinging  from  the  wrists  in  that  peculiar 
style  known  as  the  Droop  ? 

But  where  was  Snipkins  at  the  ball  ?  His  indi 
viduality  was  for  a  brief  time  lost  in  that  of  a 
Spanish  cavalier.  But,  alas !  forgetting  himself  for 
a  moment,  he  raised  his  hat,  and  although  he  still 
retained  his  mask,  Miss  Airs  knew  him.  His  bald 
head  betrayed  him ! 
-  That  was  a  happy  moment  for  Araminta,  and  she 


MISS   AIRS.  103 

improved  it.  She  managed  to  inspire  Snipkins 
with  a  terrible  state  of  curiosity  as  to  her  identity, 
and  just  as  sure  as  "pity  is  akin  to  love,"  so  is  curi 
osity  akin  to  a  desperate  flirtation.  Where  were 
Snipkins'  eyes  that  he  failed  to  recognize  that 
affected  walk  and  those  languishing  hands  ? 

Alas  for  Love,  that  he  is  blind  ! 

Mrs.  Puffy  returned  from  her  trip  to  Lake 
George  on  purpose  to  attend  this  masquerade  ball. 
She  was  bent  on  beguiling  the  ancient  Puffy  into 
some  sly  love-making  under  the  mask  that  she 
might  tease  him  forever  after  about  it.  But  lo ! 
in  the  bewilderment  of  dominos  and  masques,  of 
clowns  and  harlequins,  Humpty-Dumpties,  Satans, 
tambourine  girls  and  pretty  shepherdesses,  dukes 
and  jockeys,  Highland  laddies  and  bluebeards,  con 
trabands  and  cavaliers — among  all  these  Puffy  was 
not  to  be  found. 

lie  knew  enough  not  to  uncover  his  little  bald 
pate,  and,  as  the  evening  wore  away,  Mrs.  Puffy  be 
came  exceedingly  anxious  lest  her  spouse  should  be 
enacting  the  fond  lover  to  some  one  else  instead  of 
to  herself,  as  she  had  intended. 

And  no  doubt  he  was ! 

Poor  Mrs.  Puffy !     An  amusing  incident  which 


104          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

occurred  during  her  foreign  tour  was  related  to  us 
to-day.  It  is  too  good  to  keep. 

Visiting  an  artist's  studio  in  Rome,  Mrs.  Puffy 
became  much  interested  in  a  painting  representing 
David  killing  Goliath.  Noting  its  rather  dingy 
appearance,  she  said  to  the  artist :  "  That  must  be 
quite  an  old  picture."  "  About  a  hundred  years 
old,"  was  the  reply.  "  Ah  !  painted  by  the  old  mas 
ters,  then,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Puffy.  "  Wliy^  it  must 
be  a  Madonna  !  " 

What  Mrs.  Puffy's  ideas  of  a  Madonna  were  at 
that  moment  as  she  cast  another  admiring  glance  at 
the  huge  form  of  Goliath  expiring  at  the  feet  of 
David,  it  would  be  impossible  to  conjecture. 


XVI 

THE    SARATOGA    DKOOP. 

to  have  acquired  the  Saratoga  Droop,  is 
to  be  shockingly  behind  the  fashionable  spirit  of 
the  age. 

Miss  Airs  has  it  to  perfection.  I  caught  Fitz 
Hugh  himself  this  morning  trying  to  catch  it. 

Young  Limberflap,  the  favorite  of  all  the  young 
ladies  who  are  so  happy  as  to  know  him,  being  rather 
a  lady-like  young  fellow  as  well  as  an  acknowledged 
lady-killer,  does  it  beautifully. 

But  some  unsophisticated  people,  some  one 
whose  education  does  not  keep  up  to  the  fashionable 
improvements  (?)  of  the  clay,  may  not  exactly  under 
stand  what  the  Saratoga  Droop  is. 

Therefore,  O  Muse,  inspire  my  pen  that  it  may 
teach  the  stupid  world  the  sublime  art  of  carrying 
its  hands  in  such  a  manner  as  unmistakably  to  ex 
press  I've  nothing  to  do  ! 

That  is  what  the  hands  say  here,  and  that  is  why 
the  Saratoga  Droop  is  so  popular. 

And  this  is  the  way  they  do  it :  The  elbows  are 

5* 


106  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

pressed  closely  against  the  sides,  the  lower  parts  of 
the  arms  are  then  raised  toward  the  chest,  and  the 
hands  hang  listlessly  forward. 

The  tout  ensemble  of  the  Droop  is  very  much  like 
the  wings  of  a  chicken  prepared  for  a  broil. 

This  position  of  the  hands  does  very  well  for  the 
display  of  diamond  rings;  also  for  the  fan  which 
dangles  from  one  hand,  and  the  dainty  white  mou- 
choir  which  droops  from  the  other. 

But  the  principal  object  of  thus  carrying  the 
hands  is,  as  I  have  mentioned  before,  simply  to 
express  that  such  hands  have  nothing  to  do — are 
idle  hands,  listless  hands ;  hands  that  lay  hold  of 
nothing  earnest  in  life,  and  have  but  a  limp,  feeble 
touch  for  even  the  pleasures  they  strive  to  grasp. 

Speaking  of  hands  as  being  indicative  of  char 
acter,  it  is  odd  to  reflect  what  an  opportunity  for 
studying  the  different  phases  of  human  nature  is. 
afforded  by  such  a  dance  as  the  last  iigure  in  the 
Lancers. 

The  touch  of  no  two  hands  is  alike  ;  one  touches 
your  fingers  lightly,  as  though  fearful  of  crushing 
rose  leaves;  another  clasps  your  hand  warmly,  a 
momentary  welcome,  and  an  adieu,  from  a  stranger 
whom  you  pass  in  the  journey  of  life ;  a  third 
catches  your  hand  with  a  quick  grasp  and  drops  it 


THE   SARATOGA    DROOP.  107 

suddenly — as  one  who  picks  up  pebbles  and  casts 
them  away  again,  having  mistaken  them  for  gems. 
But  the  fourth  and  last  is  the  cold,  damp  touch 
of  a  lifeless  hand,  which  sends  a  disagreeable  chill 
to  one's  heart.  People  with  such  hands  should 
always  wear  gloves,  for  contact  with  the  cold 
skin  of  a  toad  could  not  be  more  disagreeable, 
or  more  suggestive  of  the  horrors  of  cavernous 
tombs ! 

My  friend  S.  who,  though  something  satirical,  is 
by  no  means  ill-natured,  has  taken  up  the  matter  of 
the  Droop,  and  complains  bitterly  of  the  custom 
among  ladies,  both  dames  and  damsels,  which  some 
have  happily  designated  as  the  "  Kangaroo  flop." 

And  this  is  what  he  has  to  say : 

"  What  can  be  more  ungraceful  than  the  fashion 
of  carrying  the  hands  in  that  elevated,  far-reaching 
manner,  and  looking  as  if  they  were  dislocated  at 
the  wrists  ? 

"  And  yet  nearly  half  the  women,  old  and  young, 
have  caught  the  foolish  trick,  and — (see  there,  for 
example  ?) — go  dangling  their  hands  before  them, 
much  like  so  many  walking  kangaroos,  and  exactly 
like  so  many  Shaker  saints  as  they  appear  in  their 
ridiculous  devotional  dances. 

"  But  then  the  poor  kangaroos  have  the  excuse  of 


1C  8  SPARKLES    FKOM    SAKATOGA. 

nature,  and  the  Shakers  the  plea  of  religion,  while 
their  imitators  have  no  apology  whatever,  save  that 
other  poor  fools  are  doing  the  same  thing ;  that,  in 
short,  it  is  'the  fashion'  at  present ;  just  as  the  pre 
posterous  "'  back  stoop '  was  for  a  season,  three  or 
four  years  ago. 

"  We  all  know  that  likeness-taking  paper-cutters 
were  the  death  of  the  stooping  abomination  ;  why 
don't  the  same  excellent  executioner  kill  off  the 
human  kangaroo  in  the  same  way  ?  lie  could  do 
it  in  ten  days,  and  do  ' society'  an  incalculable 
service." 

But  Saratoga  has  the  infection  of  a  worse  vice, 
or  folly,  than  the  droop,  and  that  is,  fashionable 
slang. 

Just  an  hour  ago,  while  walking  upon  the  piazza, 
we  overheard  the  remark,  "  My  dear,  you've  got  a 
l>unged~up  eye  !  "  We  turned,  expecting  to  see  some 
female  member  of  the  canaille  who  had  lost  her 
way  and  strayed  among  refined  people,  when  lo ! 
wre  beheld  a  woman  dressed  in  the  height  of 
fashion,  with  costly  laces  upon  her  garb,  and  with 
rich  jewels  gleaming  in  rivalry  of  a  pair  of  bright 
dark  eyes. 

It  was  evidently  she  who  had  made  use  of  the 
above  elegant  expression ! 


THE    SARATOGA    DROOP.  109 

h  It  don't  pay  "  is  a  phrase  so  common  with  both 
men  and  women,  as  scarcely  to  be  noticed  as  a 
slang  phrase ;  still  it  might  be  inferred  from  this 
universally  used  remark  that  we  were  a  selfish,  pen 
urious  people,  who  thought  nothing  worth  undertak 
ing  or  accomplishing  unless  it  would  pay  !  "  It 
does-n't  fay !  "  may  suit  the  coarse  lips  of  an  ig 
norant  man,  but  it  ill  becomes  the  rosy  mouth  of  a 
youthful  belle. 

"It's  perfectly  dreadful!"  "Most  horrible!" 
"  The  awf  idlest  thing  you  ever  heard  !  "  are  expres 
sions  constantly  used  by  young  ladies  of  the  day  to 
express  very  simple  and  commonplace  affairs. 
And  one  wonders,  when  hearing  the  English  lan 
guage  so  exhausted  upon  the  positive  degree,  where 
words  may  be  found  to  express  the  superlative  f 

If  not  found  in  legitimate  terms,  they  have  to  be 
invented,  as  witness  the  following : 

"  My  dear,"  exclaimed  Miss  Airs,  "  you  should 
have  seen  Ned  this  morning !  You  know  he's  a 
cold-hearted  fellow,  and  I've  nearly  exhausted  my 
stock  of  new  dresses  in  trying  to  break  his  heart ; 
but  he's  caterpillared  at  last ! " 

Now,  what  in  the  world  Miss  Airs  meant  by 
caterpillar  ed,  we  leave  the  student  of  entomology  to 
explain. 


110  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

I  have  no  patience  with  Aunt  Prim,  who  says 
that  young  Limberflap  is  a  "  nice  young  man."  If 
dressing  in  exquisite  taste,  parting  one's  hair  in  the 
middle,  affecting  the  wearing  of  veils,  and  cultivat 
ing  the  Saratoga  Droop  constitute  a  nice  young 
man,  then  this  elegant  Limberflap  is  a  perfect 
charm. 

Just  as  pretty,  and  just  as  useful  as  the  charm 
one  hangs  upon  a  necklace,  or  lets  dangle  from  a 
chain — just  so  charming  is  young  Addlepate. 

But  Miss  Airs  has  this  latter  young  gentleman  so 
encompassed  by  the  bewilderment  of  her  beauty 
and  graces,  that  he  does  not  know  whether  he  is 
a  charm  or  not. 


XVII. 

A    KAINY    DAY. 

PICTURE  to  yourself,  dear  reader,  a  rainy  day  in 
Saratoga ! 

No  drives,  no  races,  no  ramble  through  the  Park, 
no  promenading  the  piazzas,  no  anything,  except 
huddling  together  in  little  groups  in  the  parlors, 
watching  the  industrious  plying  of  needle  and  thread 
by  those  young  ladies  who  are  addicted  to  worsted 
work,  listening  to  the  gossip  of  the  old  ladies,  and 
trying  to  shut  your  eyes  to  the  desperate  flirtations 
with  which  the  younger  people  endeavor  to  wile 
away  the  % hours  and  the  hearts  of  their  adorers  at 
the  same  time. 

There  was  not  a  young  lady  who  dared  to  put  her 
head  out  of  doors  yesterday,  for  the  damp  air  is  an 
inveterate  enemy  to  crimps  and  curls,  and  a  sad  ex- 
poser  of  "rats"  and  "mice,"  to  say  nothing  of  taking 
all  pretensions  out  of  newly  done-up  frills  and  ruffles. 

So  the  young  ladies  contented  themselves  in  the 
morning  with  taking  possession  of  the  corners — in  fact 
there  was  not  a  corner  to  be  had  after  ten  o'clock — 


112  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

and  while  apparently  absorbed  in  weaving  bright- 
colored  threads  in  and  out  of  the  canvas,  they  sought 
to  spin  a  little  romance  into  the  becrusted  hearts  of 
the  young  men  who  gathered  around  them. 

But  there  is  not  much  romance  in  a  Saratoga 
flirtation.  People  whose  whole  lives  are  devoted  to 
the  love  of  display  are  not  given  to  sentiment,  and 
a  genuine  affaire  du  ewur  is  far  rarer  at  the  Springs 
than  diamonds  of  the  first  water.  Saratoga  is  re 
nowned  for  its  curious  collection  of  old  bachelors. 

Season  after  season  they  come  to  rejuvenate,  by 
drinking  the  waters  and  basking  in  the  soft  light  of 
young  beauty's  eyes,  and  go  away  just  as  callous, 
just  as  indifferent  to  feminine  charms,  and  just  as 
much  wrapped  up  in  their  own  selfishness,  as  ever. 

It  is  whispered,  however,  that  many  of  these  an 
tiquated  youths  have  been  the  unhappy  .victims  of 
little  romances  which  occurred  here  long  years  ago, 
when  some  pretty  trifler  cast  away  the  heart  she 
had  won  so  easily,  and  accepted  the  hand  of  a 
wealthier  rival. 

It's  all  very  well  to  waltz  and  chat  with  Charles 
Augustus ;  to  lean  upon  the  arm  of  Adolphus  and 
look  unutterable  things  into  his  eyes  ;  but,  if  Charles 
Augustus  or  Adolphus  have  neither  of  them  an 
income  sufficient  to  support  the  extravagances  of  a 


A    EAINY   DAY.  113 

fashionable  wife,  what  is  the  use  of  marrying  tnem  ? 
Miss  Airs  knows  very  well  what  she  is  about  in. 
her  daily  routine  at  Saratoga,  and  plays  her  cards 
with  admirable  skill.  She  knows  just  when  to  en 
courage  Adolphus  with  a  tender  look,  and  a  little 
sigh,  which  does  not  come  exactly  from  her  heart, 
but  rather  from  the  tightness  of  her  dress,  and  she 
knows,  also,  just  when  to  snub  him  for  the  sake  of 
Fitzaddle,  whose  father  is  a  millionaire,  and  who 
has,  besides,  a  fortune  in  his  own  right. 

The  most  amusing  incident  of  the  rainy  day  was 
at  the  dinner-table,  when  poor  Bachelor  Grumpy 
essayed  to  eat  an  ear  of  corn  and  drew  out  all  his 
teeth  at  the  first  bite  ! 

Luckily,  Aunt  Prim  did  not  see  him,  and  he 
gradually  recovered  his  equanimity. 

At  the  dessert,  however,  the  dear  old  lady  was 
flustrated  by  hearing  a  soft  whisper  in  her  ear : 

"  Will  you  have  a  kiss,  mafam  ?  " 

Now  that  was  a  pretty  question  to  ask  a  lady  in  a 
small  dining-room  where  about  seven  hundred  peo 
ple  sit  down  to  refresh  their  appetites,  and  it  is  no 
wonder  that  Aunt  Prim  looked  aghast. 

Bachelor  Grumpy,  perceiving  her  sudden  embar 
rassment,  pointed  to  the  bill  of  fare,  and  after  all  it 
was  only  a  sugar  kiss ! 


114          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

Madge  says  Aunt  P.  looked  really  disappointed. 

Apropos  of  the  dinner,  a  trifle  over  fifteen  hun 
dred  guests  to  be  fed  and  lodged,  and  looked  after 
generally,  might  be  supposed  to  perplex  the  mind 
of  any  one  man — but  these  Saratoga  landlords  have 
a  wonderful  talent  for  making  room,  and,  like  poor 
Oliver  Twist,  are  always  clamoring  for  more.  And 
then  to  think  of  the  "  growlers "  who  find  shelter 
under  these  vast  roofs  ! 

There  is  the  testy  old  gentleman  who  is  always 
complaining  of  his  waiter,  and  who  has  no  patience 
to  wait  his  turn  at  the  table  ;  the  fastidious  lady  with 
a  delicate  appetite,  who  eats  three  chickens  a  day, 
half  a  dozen  eggs,  two  fishes,  to  say  nothing  of  veg 
etables,  fruits,  cake,  and  cream,  and  then  declares 
she  has  nothing  to  eat ! 

Ah !  think  of  the  poor  chickens  that  every  day 
bewail  the  loss  of  their  heads  with  fantastic  dance 
upon  their  expiring  toes,  to  feed  this  vast  multitude 
of  hungry  individuals !  Some  day  we  intend  to  ex 
plore  the  subterranean  regions  of  this  vast  hotel,  and 
to  inquire  into  the  secrets  of  its  menage. 

Aunt  Prim  says  it  is  quite  time  that  Madge  and 
I  learn  something  about  housekeeping. 

But  we  haven't  time  to  think  about  that  now. 

And  there  are  the  people  who  complain  of  climb- 


A    RAINY    DAY.  115 

ing  up  the  stairs,  and  yet  refuse  to  trust  themselves 
in  the  elevator. 

It  is  amusing  to  see  the  nervous,  timid  people 
who  cannot  resign  themselves  to  the  benefits  of 
modern  inventions,  and  go  climbing  the  wearying 
stairs,  even  up  to  the  fifth  floor,  for  fear  the  elevator 
will  fall! 

To  hear  the  complaints  of  these  poor  unfortunates, 
who,  according  to  their  own  accounts,  can  get  noth 
ing  to  eat,  and  have  nothing  to  wear,  one  would 
suppose  Saratoga  to  be  a  pitiable  place  to  live  in. 

But  it  is  to  be  suspected  that  those  who  complain 
the  most  are  those  who  have  never  been  used  to 
luxuries  at  home,  and,  therefore,  cannot  appreciate 
them  abroad. 

After  dinner  we  had  music  in  the  parlor — instead 
of  upon  the  piazza,  as  usual. 

Bright  fires  were  glowing  in  the  grates,  and 
everybody  having  resigned  themselves  to  a  rainy 
day,  began  to  look  cheerful,  and  to  really  enjoy  a 
cosey,  old-fashioned  afternoon. 

In  the  evening  there  was  a  grand  ball  at  the . 

But  balls  at  the do  not  appear  to  be  very 

popular.  The  people  up  there  are  so  dreadfully 
prim,  so  absorbed  with  the  idea  of  their  own  iin- 
Dortance,  their  pedigree,  wealth,  etc.,  that  they  look 


116  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

with  distrustful  eyes  upon  every  new-comer,  and  re 
fuse  to  be  on  intimate  terms  with  any  one. 

How  these  people  contrive  to  enjoy  themselves  at 
a  stiff,  formal  ball,  where  they  sit  in  stately  rows, 
looking  grimly  at  their  neighbors,  and  elevating 
their  aristocratic  noses  at  those  who  venture  to  join 
the  dance,  is  beyond  all  understanding. 

Verily  there  must  be  a  world  of  satisfaction  in 
the  simple  consciousness  of  one's  own  superiority. 

It  is  a  wonder  that  these  very  "  old  families  "  can 
content  themselves  with  life  in  a  Republican  coun 
try  at  all. 


XVIII. 

OLD   BACHELORS. 

LIFE  at  Saratoga  is  losing  much  of  the  formality 
w/iich  distinguished  it  in  former  years.  There  is 
more  sociability;  and,  therefore,  more  enjoyment. 
Instead  of  three  or  four  changes  of  toilette,  two 
costumes  in  one  day  are  allowed  to  be  quite  suf 
ficient  for  the  most  fashionable  lady  to  be  irresistible 
in. 

What  pleasure  there  can  be  in  spending  at  least 
one-quarter  of  a  day  in  gazing  at  one's  self  and 
one's  dry-goods  reflected  in  a  mirror,  passes  all 
understanding. 

And  even  this  waste  of  time  was  scarcely  sufficient 
for  the  making  of  four  toilettes  in  one  day. 

It  may  be  that  Flora  McFlimsy  became  impatient 
at  being  obliged  to  lose  so  much  of  Charles  Augus 
tus'  charming  society — and  hence  the  revolution ! 

If,  as  a  clever  writer  remarks,  we  could  only, 
"  like  Raphael's  angels,  be  finished  up  at  the  ears 
with  a  pair  of  wings,"  what  a  comfort  it  would  be  ! 

No   bothersome  trains,  no  wearisome  ruffles  and 


118          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

flounces,  no  remorseless  stays  and  ridiculous  paniers, 
no  shivering  under  loads  of  apparel,  or  melting  under 
a  summer  sun,  and  wishing  that  Eve  hadn't  eaten 
the  apple,  and  that  we  might  have  lived  in  Paradise 
forever  in  blissful  ignorance  of  milliners  and  dress 
makers  ! 

Finished  np  at  the  ears  with  wings,  a  modern 
belle  would  need  nothing  but  frizzled  locks  and  her 
paint  and  pomade  box  to  render  her  adorable. 

One  of  the  most  distinctive  and  peculiar  features 
of  the  season  at  Saratoga,  as  we  have  remarked,  is  the 
frightful  prevalence  every  year  of  old  bachelors. 

Just  as  sure  as  the  bee  and  the  humming-bird  re 
turn  with  the  summer  to  bask  in  the  sun  and  flutter 
among  the  flowers,  just  so  sure  the  bachelors  leave 
their  gloomy  garrets,  located  Heaven  knows  where, 
to  sun  their  frigid  lives  among  the  belles  of  Sara 
toga. 

Such  an  array  of  them !  Such  a  display  of 
them ! 

Wizen-faced,  crooked-back,  bow-legged ;  some  with 
luxuriant  heads  of  hair  plentifully  sprinkled  with 
gray — most  of  them  frightfully  bald,  with  their 
sparse  locks  brushed  out  in  the  primmest  manner  ; 
and  some,  fearful  to  relate,  without  any  hair  at  all, 
and  with  their  empty  craniums  attired  in  wigs ! 


OLD  BACHELORS.  119 

Crusty  and  cynical,  crabbed  and  mystical,  for 
lorn  and  miserable — why  come  the  old  bachelors 
here? 

Empty-headed,  of  course,  for  no  man  with  sufficient 
wit  or  wisdom  would  be  an  old  bachelor ;  empty- 
hearted,  for  no  man  with  a  heart  ever  lived  to  be  an 
old  bachelor. 

A  fair  and  fat  widow  suggests  that  these  old 
habitues  of  Saratoga  have  been  all  these  years 
looking  for  rich  wives.  Poor  fellows  !  They  belong 
to  the  forlorn  hope.  As  though  a  pretty  girl  with 
youth,  wealth,  and  beauty  at  her  command  was  going 
to  marry  a  snuffy  old  bachelor  !  Really,  the  egotism 
of  these  men  surpasses  all  belief. 

Leaving  the  young  girls,  it  is  quite  useless  for  the 
old  bachelor  to  pay  his  devoirs  to  a  widow.  Widows 
are  far  too  wise  to  be  entrapped  into  marrying  an 
obstinate,  antiquated  old  bachelor.  To  manage  a 
man  in  his  youthful  and  more  tractable  days  is, 
goodness  knows,  enough  to  try  any  woman's  patience, 
but  to  attempt  the  conversion  of  a  self-satisfied, 
obdurate,  perverse  old  bachelor  to  a  woman's  way  of 
viewing  affairs,  is  what  no  sensible  widow  would  ever 
undertake,  not  even  though  the  sly  old  fellow  de 
clares  that  his  heart  is  melted  at  last  before  her 
charms. 


120  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

By  charms,  he  means,  of  course,  the  widow's  full 
purse,  carriage,  servants,  etc.,  etc. 

Now,  no  rational  being  would  for  one  moment 
suppose  that  any  old  bachelor  could  have  the  smallest 
remnant  of  a  heart  left,  and  when  he  inclines  to  the 
sentimental  the  effect  is  immensely  ridiculous. 

Among  these  forlorn  specimens  of  humanity  who 
are  this  moment  strolling  up  and  down  the  piazza, 
pretending  to  admire  the  ladies,  although  everybody 
knows  they  cannot  recognize  the  loveliest  charmer 
at  the  distance  of  three  feet— first  we  will  single 
out  that  dapper  little  man,  who,  if  he  were  twenty 
years  younger,  would  be  called  a  "  love  of  a  man ;" 
always  exquisitely  dressed — as  what  man  shouldn't 
be  who  has  devoted  himself  to  matters  of  the  toilette 
for  upwards  of  forty  years? — with  the  whitest  of 
hands,  the  blackest  of  boots,  and  the  glossiest  of 
locks  (what  few  there  are  left  of  them)  of  any  man 
in  Saratoga. 

Of  course  such  an  immaculate  personage  as  this 
would  never  submit  to  have  his  collar  rumpled  by  a 
woman's  arms!  And  who  would  dream  of  dis 
arranging  those  prim,  mutton-chop  whiskers  with  a 
kiss  ?  Surely  every  separate  hair  would  bristle  with 
indignation  before  such  temerity. 

Next  comes  my  tall  and  fidgety  old  bachelor — 


MAKING    REPAIRS. 


OLD    BACHELORS.  121 

whose  clothes  are,  somehow,  always  awry — whose 
cravat  is  never  half  tied — whose  whole  appearance 
is,  in  fact,  fearfully  suggestive  of  lost  buttons, 
broken  strings,  and  forlorn  attempts,  without  know 
ing  how,  to  look  respectably. 

Any  one  can  see  at  a  glance  that  that  man  is  in 
desperate  need  of  some  feminine  hand  to  keep  him 
in  order. 

Fancy  those  clumsy  fingers  of  his  sewing  on  but 
tons  !  Why,  he  hasn't  even  learned  yet  to  brush  his 
own  hair! 

One  cannot  help  speculating,  while  commiserating 
this  lonely  man,  upon  the  great  difference  a  good 
little  wife  would  have  made  in  his  existence.  We 
know  a  distinguished  divine  who  never  appeared  in 
the  pulpit  with  his  hair  properly  combed — indeed, 
people  said  he  never  combed  it  at  all — until  after  he 
was  married.  So  there  is,  at  least,  one  authen 
ticated  instance  of  benefit  derived  by  an  old  bache 
lor  from  being  married. 

As  for  those  prim  individuals  who  have  spent 
altogether  too  much  time  upon  their  personal  ap 
pearance,  perhaps  the  best  thing  a  young  wife  could 
do  to  startle  them  into  a  forgetf ulness  of  self,  would 
be  to  comb  their  heads  occasionally  with  a  three- 
legged  stool. 


122  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

One  of  the  most  dangerous  °f  °ld  bachelors  is  the 

O 

handsome  man,  who  goes  on  through  long  years  en 
snaring  unsuspecting  hearts,  and  who  has  no  idea  of 
marrying.  The  most  unirnpressible  man  in  the 
world  is  the  handsome  old  bachelor.  lie  is  so  per 
fectly  satisfied  with  himself,  that  no  woman  is 
divine  enough  to  give  him  the  heartache.  So,  of 
all  men,  beware  of  him. 

The  most  detestable,  because  the  most  inveterate 
and  past  all  hope,  of  all  old  bachelors  is  that  gray- 
haired,  bald-headed  old  gentleman  who  is  saying 
pretty  nothings  to  that  bright-eyed  young  girl,  who 
is  laughing  at  him  behind  her  fan. 

Serves  him  right,  too.  For  the  last  forty  or  fifty 
— some  say  sixty — years  has  this  man  haunted  Sara 
toga,  and  managed  to  successfully  elude  all  manoeu 
vring  mammas  and  beautiful  daughters.  Of  course 
he  is  enormously  wealthy,  else  who  would  tolerate 
him  for  a  moment?  He  always  selects  the  liveliest 
girls  for  his  partners  in  the  dance,  and  waltzes  as 
though  he  never  knew,  nor  ever  expected  to  know, 
the  twinges  of  rheumatics. 

If  some  good  turn  of  the  gout  would  only  keep 
him  at  home  for  one  season!  Now,  what  amuse 
ment  does  this  old  fellow  suppose  young  ladies  take 
in  his  society  ? 


or 


OLD  BACHELORS.  123 

Not  a  single  one  of  them,  be  she  fresh  as  a  rose 

O  ' 

long  since  passe,  but  wishes  him  a  thousand 
miles  from  Saratoga  when  he  begs  her  hand  for  the 
dance. 

How  odious  to  be  dancing  that  delightful  waltz 
in  Graybeard's  arms,  with  Adolphus  looking  deject 
edly  and  reproachfully  on. 

The  secret  of  the  youth's  melancholy  is  that  he 
is  poor,  while  Graybeard  is  rich — and  Adolphus 
trembles  for  his  chances. 

But  he  need  not  fear.  Graybeard  has  not  the 
slightest  idea  of  ever  marrying. 

And  if  the  old  wizard  only  knew  what  a  tool  he 
was  in  the  hands  of  these  lovely  young  belles — how 
he  was  coquetted  with,  flirted  with,  only  to  make 
younger  and  handsomer  lovers  jealous,  how  irascible 
he  would  be ! 

Although  Graybeard  will  not  marry,  he  has  been 
the  means  of  hastening  many  a  match,  for  hesitating 
lovers  have  been  driven  into  casting  their  hearts 
into  the  balance  with  Graybeard's  gold,  and  it  is  to 
the  credit  of  human  nature  that  hearts  are  sometimes 
finally  triumphant. 

And  thus  it  is  that  when  Angelina  wishes  to 
bring  Adolphus  to  his  senses,  or  rather  to  her  feet, 


124          SPARKLES  FEOM  SARATOGA. 

she  resorts  to  flirting  desperately  and  wickedly  with 
unsuspecting  Graybeard. 

This  ruse  has  usually  the  desired  effect,  and  no 
one  needs  to  waste  sympathy  upon  the  old  man  in 
the  case,  since  his  breast  is  as  devoid  of  any  vestige 
of  a  heart,  as  a  soft  clam  is  of  a  pearl. 

Bold  and  calculating,  selfish  and  cynical,  past  all 
thrills  of  romance  or  love,  past  even  the  memory  of 
young  and  warm  affections — the  old  bachelor  at  last 
finds  old  age  creeping  stealthily  upon  him,  with 
every  link  in  life  broken  or  gone,  and  with  scarcely 
one  friend  to  drop  a  tear  over  his  grave  when  he 
shall  have  passed  away." 

A  married  man  at  seventy  may  have  a  warm 
heart,  but  a  bachelor  who  has  lived  all  his  life  with 
out  the  love  of  woman  or  child,  becomes  early 
frozen  into  hopeless  frigidity.  But  this  stupid  sub 
ject  has  made  me  positively  sleepy;  not  even  an 
Adonis  appearing  upon  the  piazza  could  keep  my 
eyes  open,  much  less  this  array  of  miserable  old 
bachelors. 


XIX. 

THE   BELLES. 

Eire  belle,  Jest  regner !  To  be  beautiful  is  to 
reign,  says  the  poet. 

It  lias  been  somewhat  of  a  puzzle  this  summer  to 
determine  who,  by  right  of  her  grace  and  beauty,  is 
the  reigning  belle  of  Saratoga. 

And  the  question  is  yet  unanswered.  We  have 
all  styles  and  types  of  beauty  here.  There  are 
plenty  of  belles,  but  who  is  the  one  bright,  particular 
star,  the  one  who  reigns  undisputed  queen  of  beauty, 
the  one  who  distances  all  other  beauties  by  her  regal 
splendor,  who  shines  out — 

"  Amid  a  world,  the  only  one  ! " 
Ah !  who  is  she  ? 

Past  seasons  have  had  their  celebrated  beauties 
— the  lovely  girls  who  have  charmed  and  fascinated 
all — but  this  year  society  seems  to  have  no  especial 
darling  whom  it  is  willing  to  crown  as  the  belle  of 
Saratoga. 

We  have  a  profusion  of  roses,  but  somehow  they 
all  have  thorns. 


126          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

This  young  lady  is  acknowledged  to  be  pretty,  but 
she  has  a  bad  temper.  That  one  is  stylish  and 
dresses  magnificently,  but  she  is  too  haughty  to  be 
popular.  That  one  is  lovely,  but  she  has  no  style— 
and  so  on. 

Mrs.  Grundy  has  some  flaw  to  find  in  the  fairest 
pearl. 

It  is  quite  evident,  my  dear  belles,  that  something 
else  is  necessary  to  render  one  truly  attractive,  be 
sides  a  pretty  face  and  a  lavish  wardrobe. 

Some  young  ladies  here  have  always  reigned  as 
belles  in  one  sense  of  the  word,  ever  since  they  first 
made  their  debut  in  society,  but  still  they  are  un 
married,  and  seem  likely  to  continue  so. 

This  is  doubtless  a  great  mystery  not  only  to 
themselves,  but  also  to  their  friends.  It  may  be 
easily  solved. 

"When  these  young  ladies  first  came  to  spend  the 
season  at  Saratoga,  they  were  young,  beautiful,  and 
excelled  all  others  in  the  elegance  of  their  toilettes. 
But  they  were  haughty,  proud,  and  esteemed  no 
young  man  as  worthy  of  being  a  suitor  to  their  lily- 
white  hands. 

To  marry  one  of  these  beauties,  great  wealth  was 
of  course  indispensable.  Next,  pedigree ;  for  they 
had  a  holy  horror  of  plebeian  blood.  Next,  manly 


THE   BELLES.  127 

beauty;  and  lastly,  the  most  abject  devotion  to 
themselves. 

But  no  such  marvellous  man  came  suing  at  their 
feet.  Modern  society  rarely  combining  in  one  indi 
vidual  the  beauty  of  Adonis,  the  wealth  of  Croesus, 
and  Marc  Antony's  devotion — these  haughty  belles 
still  remain  unmarried. 

Having  passed  season  after  season  without  en 
tangling  the  golden  fish  in  their  nets,  and  having 
grown  slightly  passe,  they  have  returned  to  Saratoga 
this  summer,  armed  with  new  devices  for  subduing 
that  obdurate  creature — man. 

They  have  summoned  to  their  aid  the  subtle  hand 
of  art. 

They  have  become  elaborate  artists  of  themselves. 
The  dark-haired  damsel,  whose  raven  tresses  have 
failed  to  win  a  husband  for  their  wearer,  comes  out 
like  a  new-blown  flower,  with  rare  golden  locks,  and 
challenges  the  world  to  admire  a  new  beauty. 

Her  face  is  a  perfect  study — not  for  the  soul 
which  it  reveals,  but  for  its  features. 

The  eyebrows  are  tinted ;  the  eyes  are  bright  and 
dazzling — with  arsenic;  the  lips  are  vermilion; 
and,  as  for  brow  and  cheek,  Nature  has  no  rival  for 
the  lily  and  rose  which  are  blended  there. 

A  black,  or  white,  lace  veil  is  of  course  neces- 


128  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

sary  to  be  worn  over  such  charms  throughout  the 
day,  to  keep  the  impertinent  sunlight  from  telling 
tales. 

So  much  for  the  brunette. . 

As  for  the  blonde,  she  lias  grown  weary  of  her 
pale  locks,  and,  by  some  device,  has  coaxed  them 
into  a  glowing  red.  Her  complexion,  no  longer 
fair,  but  frightfully  sallow,  is  so  covered  with  chalk 
as  to  render  it  positively  ghastly. 

There  was  a  time  when  delicate,  sickly  looking 
women  were  the  type  of  women  most  admired. 

Thank  Heaven  !  that  time  is  past,  and  a  woman 
can  afford  to  be  healthy  and  stout,  rosy  and  good- 
naturedj  and  yet  be  admitted  to  fashionable  society 
— though  goodness  only  knows  what  great  pleasure 
or  profit  is  to  be  derived  from  that ! 

Now  the  brunette  and  the  blonde  have  come  back 
to  Saratoga  with  hosts  of  new  dresses,  new  hair,  new 
faces,  all  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made,  and  yet — 
and  yet — they  sit  like  wall  flowers  shivering  in  the 
cold,  unsurrounded  by  beaux. 

If  some  innocent  individual  who  has  not  fre 
quented  Saratoga  for  the  last  four  or  five  years 
chances  to  be  struck  by  their  beauty  and  style, 
and  pays  them  some  attention,  it  is  noticed  that 


THE   BELLES.  129 

he  too,  like  former  admirers,  soon  makes  his  final 
bow, 

"  And  quietly  steals  away." 

Poor  things !  This  season,  like  all  the  rest,  will 
glide  away,  and  no  happy  speculation  be  realized 
in  the  matrimonial  market  by  these  fashionable  old 
maids. 

Which  shows  that  there  is  something  wrong  in 
the  feminine  ideas  of  attraction. 

It  is  useless  to  put  on  the  gaudy  wings  of  the  but 
terfly,  and  still  remain  a  grub. 

"Who  admires  the  golden  glow  of  the  wings  and 
forgets  the  worm  beneath  ? 

So,  my  dear  fading  flowers,  had  you  but  passed 
one-half  the  time  in  making  your  souls  beautiful, 
that  you  have  spent  in  acquiring  new  charms  of 
person,  you  had  not  been  lacking  in  the  rare  devo 
tion  of  true  hearts. 

Had  you  cultivated  those  graces  of  the  heart, 
those  enduring  charms  which  make  a-  woman  always 
lovable ;  had  you  polished  some  jewels  of  the  mind 
instead  of  counting  your  treasures  in  diamonds  and 
pearls,  life  would  not  have  become  the  vapid,  idle 
dream,  the  round  of  dissipation  and  disappointments, 
which  it  has  been. 

Remember  that  beauty  is  but  the  velvet  flush  of 


130  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

the  rose  ;  the  charm  of  the  flower  is  in  its  fragrance. 
Its  perfume  is  its  soul. 

A  lovely  and  lovable  woman  is  like  the  rose ;  she 
gathers  her  true  beauty  from  the  inner  life. 

Go  home,  my  dear  passe  belles,  and  begin  life 
anew. 

Lay  aside  your  false  hair.  Let  Mother  Nature  tint 
your  natural  locks  as  she  will,  for  she  is  the  true 
artist  after  all.  She  knows  where  to  fling  her  gold 
and  brown,  and  where  to  leave  her  snow-drifts  and 
silvery  threads. 

Throw  away  the  powder  and  the  rouge  ;  the 
flowers  have  no  need  of  them — why  have  you  ? 

Give  less  time  to  your  ruffles  and  flounces ;  the 
world  does  not  lie  in  a  French  fold  or  the  tit  of  a 
glove.  There  are  things  more  important  than  the 
style  of  a  bonnet,  more  enduring  than  the  latest  pat 
tern  for  a  dress,  and  therefore  more  worthy  of 
thought. 

Take  up  some  aim  in  life,  live  more  for  the  inner 
and  less  for  the  outer  world. 

Then,  if  some  true  heart  is  laid  upon  your  shrine, 
it  is  well. 

If  not,  it  may  still  be  well. 

It  is  not  all  of  life  to  love,  or  to  marry,  and  a 


THE   BELLES.  131 

woman's  life  may  still  be  a  success  without  a  man's 
heart  in  it. 

But  to  come  now  to  the  younger  belles — the  merry 
maidens  of  sweet  sixteen  and  of  twenty.  For  them 
also  we  have  the  same  word  of  warning  and  advice. 

There  is  nothing  more  beautiful  in  God's  world 
than  a  beautiful  young  girl,  with  the  sparkle  of 
youth  in  her  eye  and  the  dew  of  freshness  upon  her 

HP. 

That  she  should  not  be  always  beautiful  is  a  vain 
regret ;  that  she  might  be  always  adorable,  but  often 
is  not,  is  a  still  sadder  one. 

And  so  to  the  charming  young  girls  who  throng 
the  parlors  of  Saratoga ;  who  float,  like  beautiful 
dreams,  through  the  dance  in  the  ball-room  ;  whose 
lips  are  always  wreathed  in  smiles  and  whose  voices 
are  musical  with  laughter ;  whose  lives  have  been 
one  unbroken  sunbeam — to  these,  whom  we  ardently 
love,  we  have  one  message — 

To  be  always  loved,  one  must  continue  always  to 
grow  lovable. 

It  is  not  beauty  alone,  it  is  not  style,  nor  wealth, 
which  takes  hold  of  a  true  man's  heart  and  retains 
it,  or  which  awakens  the  admiration  of  the  world. 

More  than  these  is  necessary  to  inspire  a  genuine 
love  and  admiration. 


132  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

How  many  of  the  lovely  girls  here  who  possess  all 
the  charms  of  youth,  will  make  charming  old  women, 
is  a  question  well  worth  considering. 

Just  now  to  be  a  belle,  the  only  things  esteemed 
to  be  necessary  are,  to  be  dressed  always  in  the  very 
latest  style,  to  wear  one's  hair  on  the  top  of  one's 
head,  to  walk  on  tilted  heels,  to  carry  a  vinaigrette, 
to  know  when  to  faint,  when  to  blush,  when  to  snub 
admirers  with  no  prospects,  when  to  look  tender  and 
languishing,  to  dance  and  flirt  to  one's  heart's  con 
tent,  to  follow  the  ceaseless  round  of  pleasure  and 
never  go  weary — such  is  the  life  of  the  Saratoga 
belle. 

The  aim  of  her  industry  is  to  work  cats  and  dogs 
upon  canvas  ;  of  her  literature,  to  read  novels. 

A  sly  little  flirtation  with  Fritz  on  the  balcony  is 
all  very  nice,  but  as  to  marrying  Fritz,  that  is  im 
possible,  for  he  has  no  money,  nothing  but  prospects. 

And  who  can  buy  diamonds  and  silks  with  pros 
pects  ? 

Apropos  of  the  belles,  here  is  a  pen  portrait  of  a 
fair  New  Yorker  whom  we  call  "  beautiful  Maude," 
and  who  queens  it  right  royally  over  many  suscep 
tible  hearts.  Maude  has  the  loveliest  golden  hair, 
which  is  crimped  and  curled,  looped  high  up  on  her 
head  and  flowing  luxuriantly  over  her  shoulders — 


THE   BELLES.  133 

in  fact  a  perfect  marvel  of  a  coiffure  to  the  un 
accustomed  eye.  Her  eyes  are  blue  as  the  water- 
lilies  which  bloom  in  the  vale  of  Cashmere ;  and  as 
for  her  complexion — ah  !  I  should  need  the  inspired 
pen  of  an  Arabian  poet  to  describe  that !  Indeed, 
I  could  never  quite  make  up  my  mind  about  that 
complexion,  so  pink  and  white,  such  a  delicious 
mingling  of  the  lily  with  the  rose ;  a  pink  that 
never  deepens  into  red,  a  white  that  almost  dazzles  ; 
it  seems  too  beautiful  for  nature,  too  natural  for 
art !  No  doubt  it  should  be  attributed  to  the  New 
York  air.  Apart  from  her  beauty,  Miss  Maude  has 
every  advantage  which  wealth  can  bestow.  An  in 
exhaustible  wardrobe,  jewels  and  trinkets  without 
number,  and  adorers  ad  infinitum.  She  is  just  five 
feet  four  in  stature,  and  would  be  extremely  grace 
ful  in  her  carriage  were  it  not  for  the  little  boots 
she  wears  upon  her  dainty  feet,  which  are  tilted  up 
on  heels  three  inches  high.  Such  an  absurd  fashion 
is  by  no  means  conducive  to  an  Andalusiaii  walk  ! 
This  morning  beautiful  Maude  is  charmingly  arrayed 
in  a  white  dress  of  the  finest  India  muslin  ;  which  is 
cut  up  into  endless  puffs,  and  set  together  again 
with  broad  valenciennes  lace.  •  This  is  worn  over  a 
pink  silk.  The  short  tunic  is  also  of  pink  silk  and 
bordered  with  deep  lace,  and  a  pink  ribbon,  almost 


134  SPAKKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

half  a  yard  in  width,  is  knotted  up  in  a  marvellous 
way  to  form  a  sash  at  the  back.  A  hat — not  much 
to  speak  of  for  size — only  two  or  three  rosebuds 
caught  together  by  a  bit  of  lace — yet,  nevertheless,  a 
dainty  and  costly  trifle,  rests  upon  the  front  of  her 
head,  and  is  almost  lost  in  the  luxuriance  of  golden 
hair  which  falls  in  tiny  ringlets  over  her  forehead, 
and  ripples  down  over  her  shoulders,  reflecting  the 
dazzling  sunbeams  like  threads  of  living  gold. 
"White  gloves,  and  a  white  silken  parasol,  whose 
pink  lining  casts  a  soft,  tinted  shade  over  her  fail- 
face,  completes  the  toilette  of  this  lovely  girl. 
Maude  looks  like  a  beautiful  fairy  who  might  live 
upon  love  and  honey-dew  all  of  her  days.  But  I 
can  assure  you  that  she  has  no  such  romantic  ideas 
amid  all  the  folly  of  her  little  brain,  and  woe  to  the 
rash  youth  with  less  than  ten  thousand  a  year,  and 
prospects  of  more,  who  should  dare  to  aspire  to  her 
hand. — It  would  not  be  pleasant  to  meet  the  flashing 
of  those  violet  eyes  if  Maude  were  angry ;  there  is 
heat  lightning  even  in  the  softest  summer  clouds. 


XX. 

SNUBBING. 

I  AM  happy  to  say  that  my  advice  and  warning 
to  th6  old  bachelors  has  taken  effect.  The  dapper 
little  man  who  has  been  so  long  noted  as  the  pink 
of  perfection,  has  given  a  Byronic  turn  to  his  dark 
locks ;  that  is,  he  allows  at  least  three  individual 
hairs  to  fall  over  his  forehead,  that  he  may  no 
longer  be  noted  for  his  primness;  the  crazy  old 
bachelor  is  making  frantic  efforts  to  tie  his  cravat  in 
a  proper  manner,  and  has  positively  been  rebuttoned 
— that  is,  some  one  has  kindly  sewn  on  his  buttons 
for  him,  for  this  forlorn  individual,  in  plying  the 
needle,  usually  placed  the  button  on  wrong  side  out, 
with  his  clumsy  fingers ;  and  the  wizen-faced,  bald- 
headed  old  man  has  forsaken  the  ball-room  and  the 
dance,  and  mopes  alone  in  a  corner  upon  the  piazza, 
the  very  picture  of  desolation  and  despair.  His  eyes 
are  at  last  opened  to  the  mournful  fact  that  he  is  no 
longer  an  eligible  partner  for  the  pretty  young  ladies 
around  whom  he  has  fluttered  so  long,  and  now  he 


136          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

sits  a  pathetic  monument  of  lost  opportunities,  dis 
mally  reciting  to  himself  those  well-known  lines — 

"  Of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 
The  saddest  are  these — it  might  have  been  ! " 

Poor  fellow!  if  he  had  consented  years  ago  to 
give  his  dim  eyes  the  aid  of  a  pair  of  spectacles,  he 
might  have  discovered  what  an  insufferable  imi- 

O 

sance  he  was  to  the  merry  young  belles  who  were 
never  weary  of  diverting  themselves  with  his  infirm 
ities. 

I  have  seen  this  pitiable  old  man  the  victim  of  a 
dozen  caprices  of  a  young  girl  in  a  morning  upon 
the  piazza. 

First,  she  would  drop  her  fan,  as  though  she  were 
not  in  the  least  aware  of  the  almost  utter  impossi 
bility  of  the  old  bachelor  picking  it  up ;  as  though 
she  never  dreamed  that  he  had  a  stiff  back  and  was 
troubled  with  gouty  limbs  ;  next  she  would  ask  him 
to  read  the  last  Saratoga  letter  to  her,  pleading  a 
headache,  and  declaring  it  hurt  her  eyes  to  read  ! 

And  the  wicked  girl's  eyes  dancing  with  fire  all 
the  while,  and  as  bright  as  diamonds,  for  she  knew 
very  well  that  this  superannuated  beau  could  not 
read  without  glasses!  And  these  he  never  wears 
upon  the  piazza. 


SNUBBING.  137 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  that  one  old  bachelor 
here  is  called  the  "  belle  of  Saratoga,"  probably  be 
cause  he  has  such  agreeable  ways,  for  he  is  one  of 
your  charming  old  bachelors,  and  the  anxious  mam 
mas  are  always  willing  to  trust  their  pretty  dears  in 
his  care.  This  circumstance  causes  all  the  young 
gentlemen  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance,  and  alto 
gether  he  has  quite  a  delightful  time  of  it  in  Sara 
toga — much  pleasanter,  I  fancy,  than  when  at  home 
in  Gotham,  for  there  he  keeps  bachelor's  hall  with 
two  bachelor  brothers. 

Think  of  that,  young  ladies !  Three  lonely, 
crusty  old  bachelors,  all  sitting  down  to  sip  their  tea 
in  frigid  silence — a  melancholy,  miserable  trio ! 

Once  a  week  they  have  a  sewing  meeting  to  re 
place  lost  buttons  and  sew  up  the  eye-openers  in 
their  socks.  Then  they  look  over  the  household  ac 
counts,  and  scold  Bridget  for  wasting  the  tea  and 
the  sugar,  reprove  her  for  leaving  the  front  windows 
open  that  the  old  maids  over  the  way  may  peep  in, 
and  charge  her,  on  no  account,  to  converse  with  the 
pretty  and  wily  widow  who  lives  close  by,  and  who 
sometimes  encounters  Bridget  at  the  market. 

So  these  old  bachelors  are  terribly  afraid  of  wid 
ows  and  old  maids.  How  absurd  to  think  that  one 
of  them  should  come  up  here  to  be  styled  the  "  belle 


138  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

of  Saratoga,"  and  to  play  duenna  to  half  a  dozen 
pretty  girls ! 

But  dismissing  the  old  bachelors  as  peremptorily 
as  they  have  often  been  dismissed  before — we  turn 
to  ponder  the  question  whether  it  is  wise  to  appear 
beautiful  one  hour,  only  to  appear  ugly  the  next, 
from  sheer  contrast. 

It  takes  the  morning  light — the  full  blaze  of  day 
— to  reveal  people  to  each  other ;  and  therefore, 
these  morning  hours  do  much  either  to  dispel  or 
complete  the  illusions  of  the  ball-room  the  night 
before. 

Miss  Pinky  Pearl,  whose  complexion  at  night  is 
something  marvellous,  in  fact,  a  veritable  cream  of 
roses,  never  ventures  on  the  piazza  without  a  veil 
over  her  face,  and  a  parasol  which  serves  to  keep 
off  the  too  scrutinizing  gaze  of  both  sun  and  men. 
But  Madge,  who  never  powders  or  paints,  looks 
better  than  ever  in  the  morning,  provided  her  eyes 
are  not  heavy  with  sleep. 

The  belle  of  the  ball-room  is  not  apt  to  be  the 
belle  of  the  piazza.  Full  dress,  diamonds,  and  the 
other  et  ceteras  of  a  lady's  evening  toilette,  are  apt 
to  impart  a  delusive  charm  to  beauty,  and  the 
young  lady  who  is  a  perfect  divinity  in  a  cloud  of 
tulle,  who  is  radiant  under  the  brilliant  chandeliers, 


SNUBBING.  139 

may  be  plain  enough  when  she  appears  in  the 
morning  in  a  simple  dress,  with  her  hair  plainly 
arranged,  and  her  complexion  devoid  of  the  ball 
room  lilies  and  roses. 

But  to  pass  from  the  yonng  ladies  who  are  so 
elaborated,  look  at  the  elderly  ones  who  come  out 
in  the  morning  as  fresh  as  new  blown  roses,  inspir 
ing  themselves  and  every  one  else  with  the  belief 
that  they  are  young  again.  Look  at  the  light  robes, 
the  gay  ribbons,  the  long  curls,  the  jaunty  little  hat ; 
and  were  it  not  for  the  keen  gaze  beneath  the  uni 
versal  veii,  one  might  fancy  a  miss  of  sixteen  sat 
under  that  parasol — instead  of  a  woman  of  sixty. 

"  How  fearfully  and  how  wonderfully  we  are 
made ! "  comes  to  our  mind  with  a  new  signifi 
cance,  as  we  watch  the  passing  throng. 

Thank  Heaven  that  gray  hairs  are  at  last  fash 
ionable  ;  and  that  the  most  of  our  elderly  dames  are 
content  with  such  graces  as  Mother  Nature  lias  given 
them,  and  wear  the  chaplet  of  years  as  a  crown 
formed  of  precious  jewels  from  the  casket  of  time. 

Youth  has  its  charms,  but  so  also  has  maturer 
age.  An  old  lady  maybe  just  as  truly  charming  as 
a  young  belle.  But  the  charms  of  which  \ve  speak 
are  not  to  be  found  in  the  powder  or  paint  box. 

The  latest  development  of  Saratoga  life  which 


140  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

has  attracted  our  especial  attention  is  the  fearful 
manner  in  which  people  snub  each  other.  The 
fine  art  of  snubbing  has  attained  its  fullest  perfec 
tion  here.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  people, 
who  have  been  apparently  the  most  ardent  friends, 
pass  each  other  without  a  glance. 

From  the  prevalence  of  turned-up  noses,  one  who 
is  a  careful  observer  of  the  passing  throng  might 
imagine  that  le  nez  retrousse  was  considered  a  high 
type  of  beauty,  and  therefore  our  belles  were  do 
ing  their  best  to  cultivate  it. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Delta,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you !  " 
exclaims  Mrs.  Beta,  rushing  up  to  her  quondam 
friend. 

Mrs.  Delta  draws  herself  up  coldly,  says  "  Good- 
morning,  Madam,"  and  stalks  away. 

To  the  gentleman  who  escorts  her  she  says,  "  How 
dare  that  creature  speak  to  me  ? " 

And  her  nose  puts  on  an  aspiring  air  which  is 
truly  beautiful  to  witness. 

A  young  lady  who  has  been  trifling  cruelly  with 
an  admirer's  heart  for  a  week  or  more — lavishing 

O 

her  brightest  glances  and  sweetest  smiles  upon  him, 
suddenly  ignores  him  altogether,  absolutely  disdain 
ing  to  even  look  upon  him. 

To  solve  the  apparent  enigma,  one  has  only  to 


SNUBBING.  141 

ascertain  that  this  young  man  has  only  a  few  thou-^ 
sands  a  year,  while  a  new  admirer  has  untold  wealth 
at  his  command. 

Is  it  well  to  know  that  man  or  woman  ?  Will  it 
do  to  recognize  and  frequent  the  society  of  those 
people  ?  are  questions  often  asked,  and  usually  an 
swered  according  to  the  status  a  critical  world  has 
given  to  the  individual. 

To  know  the  person  whom  society  does  not  recog 
nize  is  accounted  more  than  a  crime. 

There  are,  in  fact,  a  great  many  people  who 
never  know  you  at  all  unless  you  are  dressed  quite 
d  la  mode,  and  the  estimate  they  place  upon  you  is 
exactly  in  accordance  to  the  garments  you  wear ; 
just  in  proportion  to  the  value  of  your  jewels  or 
laces  do  you  rise  or  fall  in  these  peoples'  opinion. 
As  for  your  individual  character,  that  doesn't  matter 
so  much. 

People  who  hold  their  position  in  society  by  their 
wealth  alone,  like  to  turn  up  their  noses  at  those 
who  have  something  better  than  wealth  to  recom 
mend  them. 

It  is  so  provoking  to  meet  people  who  are  com 
paratively  poor,  and  yet  who  refuse  to  be  dazzled 
by  the  glitter  of  diamonds  or  the  splendor  of  costly 
raiment  and  pretentious  equipages ! 


142  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

*  To  snub  the  individual "  who  has  neither  beauty, 
wealth,  nor  fame  is  accounted  a  virtue. 

So  goes  the  world.  And  a  strange,  strange  world 
it  is. 

One  peculiarity  of  Saratoga  life  is,  that  it  is 
made  up  of  little  welcomes  and  farewells.  Every 
day  some  friend  makes  his  adieux ;  but  every  day 
some  well-known  face  reappears  amid  the  merry 
throng,  and  so  the  vacant  place  is  soon  filled,  and 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  loneliness  or  weariness, 
except,  perhaps,  to  those  who  have  grown  weary  of 
society  long  ago,  and  who  prefer  the  quiet,  shaded 
walks  of  life  to  these  gay  scenes. 

Life  moves  on  from  day  to  day  like  a  pleasant 
dream — or  like  passing  through  the  mazes  of  the 
dance ;  we  clasp  hands  for  a  moment  and  then  part 
forever,  with  perchance  the  memory  of  a  glance, 
or  touch,  which  will  live  in  our  hearts  lonor  after 

'  O 

the  summer  flowers  have  faded,  and  the  green 
leaves  grown  red  and  sere ; — summer  memories, 
which  will  float  through  the  long  winter  of  life  to 
come,  like  the  incense  of  unseen  flowers  which  fol 
low  us  on  our  way. 

Little  friendships,  little  loves ;  words  half  jesting, 
half  tender ;  a  mingling  of  sighs  and  smiles ;  a  heart 
throb  of  pleasure  pierced  with  a  shadow  of  regret ;  a 


SNUBBING.  143 

series  of  welcomes  and  farewells — such  is  life  at 
Saratoga.  Apart  from  the  attractions  of  the  hotels, 
where  life  is  one  constant  round  of  gayety,  Nature 
here  has  many  charms. 

The  drives  are  beautiful,  and  go  in  what  direc 
tion  you  will  the  same  charming  variety  of  scenery 
is  spread  before  you. 

Mother  Nature  never  snubs  her  loving  chil 
dren  ;  she  welcomes  them  all  with  a  smile.  Her 
heart  is  always  open  to  us,  always  tender  and  true. 
The  favorite  drive  is  that  to  the  famed  Saratoga 
Lake.  Past  green  fields  filled  with  waving  corn  ; 
past  green  meadows  from  which  comes  the  sweet 
odor  of  the  new-mown  hay ;  past  the  red  and 
green  velvet  of  clover ;  past  the  white-mantled 
fields  of  buckwheat,  where  myriads  of  star-like 
blossoms  lift  up  their  voices  of  perfume ;  past 
green  groves  and  dark  woods  from  which  the  wild 
flowers  creep  to  the  roadside  and  whisper  the  secrets 
of  shaded  glens ;  past  all  these,  onward  to  the 
beautiful  lake  which  lies,  a  solitaire  set  in  emerald, 
upon  Nature's  deep  heart. 

To  sit  and  dream  one  quiet  hour  upon  the  banks 
of  this  blue,  limpid  lake,  is  to  steal  at  least  one  bit 
of  true  romance  from  the  gay  life  around  us. 

And  this   hour  should  be  near  the    eventide — 


144  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

just  when  the  sun  has  bidden  the  day  farewell,  and 
left  the  clouds  all  flushed  and  glowing  with  his 
parting  kiss ;  when  the  far-off  mountains  are 
wrapped  in  a  golden  mist,  and  every  ripple  of  the 
lake  reflects  a  dying  sunbeam. 

With  a  musical  murmur  the  little  waves  break 
upon  the  shore  at  our  feet,  lavishing  their  last 
jewels  of  sunlight  upon  the  green  blades  of  grass, 
and  singing  in  a  weird  monotone  the  dirge  of  the 
dead  day. 

One  cannot  help  thinking,  at  such  a  time,  of 
those  who  have  come  and  gone  before  us ;  of  the 
grave  and  the  gay,  the  light-hearted  and  the  weary 
ones,  who  have  lingered  a  little  while  beside  this 
lake,  and  then  drifted  away  to  distant  homes — some 
to  quiet  hearthstones,  some  into  busy,  anxious  life — 
and  many,  ah!  very  many,  into  that  unknown 
world  "  from  whose  bourne  no  traveller  returns." 

How  many  of  life's  little  romances  have  sprung 
into  being  amid  the  charming  spots  which  encircle 
this  placid  lake !  The  very  air  which  floats  over 
the  water,  full  of  the  mystery  of  the  mountains;  the 
sweetness  of  the  forests,  the  cool  tranquillity  of  the 
lake,  is  freighted  with  romance.  Whoever  can 
open  his  heart  to  such  a  scene  ;  can  feel  the  impress 
of  skv  and  shore ;  of  the  blue  mountains  faintly 


SNUBBING.  145 

traced  against  the  sunset  clouds ;  of  the  blue  lake, 
with  the  white  lilies  folding  their  petals  to  slumber 
on  its  breast — whoever  can  feel  all  this  without  a 
thrill  of  adoration,  without  the  deep  sense  of  a  new 
joy — misses  the  benediction  which  Nature  gives  to 
all  who  sincerely  love  her. 
7 


XXI. 

AMONG    THE   LIONS. 

I  DO  not  know  any  person  who  attracts  more  at 
tention  in  this  crowded  resort  than  the  young  man 
from  abroad.  This  young  man  has  a  droop  to  his 
lily-white  hands,  a  lisp  to  his  speech,  a  suspicion  of 
rouge  upon  his  cheeks,  and  of  course  he  wears  eye 
glasses.  More  than  this,  he  is  said  to  be  desperately 
in  love  with  an  heiress.  As  I  have  just  remark 
ed,  this  extraordinary  young  man  attracts  more 
attention  than  any  one  whom  I  have  noticed,  there 
fore  I  place  him  first  upon  my  list  of  distinguished 
individuals. 

To  be  distinguished  on  account  of  the  name  you 
bear,  on  account  of  your  learning,  your  talents, 
your  wealth,  or  perhaps  your  wickedness,  is  all  very 
well ;  but  let  any  person  who  is  noted  for  any  one  of 
these  things  mingle  with  the  crowd,  and  unless  he 
is  personally  known  he  will  probably  pass  un 
noticed.  But  to  carry  your  own  distinction  always 
with  you,  quite  independent  of  either  circumstances 
or  surroundings ;  to  be  always  distinguished  from 


AMONG   THE   LIONS.  147 

the  herd,  is  certainly  to  possess  a  pre-eminence  of 
either  superiority  or  ridiculousness  over  other  peo 
ple,  which  Nature  herself  has  conferred. 

But  to  return  to  the  young  man  from  abroad. 
We  especially  designate  him  in  this  manner,  not  that 
he  is  the  only  young  man  in  Saratoga  whose  travels 
have  been  extensive,  but  because  he  is  the  particu 
lar  young  man  who  has  apparently  left  all  his 
native  Americanism  abroad  and  brought  home  a 
quantity  of  foreign  isms  in  its  place.  So  that, 
although  this  young  man  still  speaks  his  mother 
tongue,  with  the  aid  of  a  lisp,  he  has  quite  ceased  to 
be  an  American.  His  conversation  is  absurdly 
amusing.  He  tries  to  persuade  you  that  ho  is  sick 
and  disgusted  with  the  world ;  that  he  would  much 
prefer  a  savage  state  of  life  to  this  fashionable 
existence ;  and  that  to  be  dressed  in  a  swallow-tailed 
coat  and  to  wear  white  kids  is  an  insufferable  tort 
ure  to  him.  He  wants  you  to  believe  that  he  is  a 
diamond  of  the  first  water  polished  entirely  against 
his  will. 

And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  not  a  man  in  Sara 
toga  devotes  so  much  time  to  his  dress  as  does  this 
poor  youth,  who  declares  he  abhors  it ! 

Look  at  him  now,  all  ready  for  the  ball,  with  his 
black  claw-hammer  coat,  his  black  pantaloons,  white 


148  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

cravat,  white  gloves,  and  hair  carefully  parted  in 
the  middle.  He  carries  a  white  silk  crush  hat  to 
fan  himself  during  his  exhaustive  efforts  in  the 
dance,  and  wipes  his  forehead — not  his  cheeks — 
languidly  with  a  lace  handkerchief. 

A  man  who  has  caused  considerable  remark  here, 
from  the  reputed  vastness  of  his  wealth,  and  the 
magnificent  diamond  he  wore  on  his  finger — which 
gem  is  said  to  be  worth  twelve  thousand  dollars — 
is  another  one  of  the  distinguished  people. 

He  was  remarkably  ugly  in  appearance,  wore  an 
immense  black  wig,  and  had  a  pair  of  eyes  as 
black  as  jet.  His  complexion,  too,  was  suspiciously 
dark,  but  he  was  presumed  to  be  some  Spaniard 
rolling  in  ingots  and  gems,  and  many  admiring 
glances  were  cast,  if  not  on  him,  at  least  upon  the 
valuable  diamond  which  flashed  from  his  finger. 

And  now,  rumor  says  that  the  pretended*  Spaniard 
is  a  pure  negro,  and  people  are  shocked  to  think 
they  have  existed  under  the  same  roof  and  dined  at 
the  same  table  with  this  sable  individual. 

We  have  a  most  remarkable  pair  of  boots  here — 
worn  by  a  Colonel  in  the  army.  Wherever  a  group 
of  pretty  ladies  is  seated  these  boots  are  to  be  seen 
winding  their  way.  Now  these  are  such  remark 
able  bouts  that  they  take  precedence  in  making  the 


AMONG   THE   LIONS.  149 

Colonel  a  distinguished  man  over  all  the  brave 
deeds  he  has  performed,  and  the  dangers  he  has  in 
curred  in  tracking  the  savages  over  the  plains  of  the 
far  West.  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  better  describe 
the  Colonel's  boots  than  by  saving  that  they  have 
the  appearance  of  having  been  whittled  down  to  a 
point,  and  are  in  such  marked  contrast  to  the  broad- 
toed  boots  which  are  worn  here  that  they  have  cer 
tainly  distinguished  themselves.  As  these  boots  are 
evidently  unadapted  to  the  accommodation  of  five 
toes  apiece,  we  have  concluded  that  the  most  of  the 
Colonel's  toes  lodge  out ! 

At  any  rate,  the  Colonel's  boots  are  most  remark 
able  specimens  of  economy  in  leather. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  "  catch  of  the  season," 
who  must  always  be  a  distinguished  individual. 
The  young  man  who  has  figured  for  some  time  in 
this  character  at  Saratoga  is  handsome,  rich  as 
Croesus,  liberal  and  jolly,  lives  like  a  prince,  and 
seems  a  veritable  Monte  Christo  as  far  as  his  wealth 
is  concerned.  His  apartments  in  the  hotel  are  fitted 
up  in  the  most  luxurious  manner.  To  pass  into 
them  from  the  other  rooms  is  like  stepping  from  the 
commonplace,  everyday  world,  into  enchanted  land. 
The  rooms  are  fitted  up  in  Oriental  style,  the 
floors  being  spread  with  beautiful  Persian  mats,  and 


150  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

the  luxurious  sofas  and  chairs  covered  with  the 
most  elegant  designs,  all  wrought  with  the  needle. 
The  doors  are  hung  with  curtains  of  the  same  richly 
embroidered  material  as  that  which  covers  the  fur 
niture.  Pictures  and  statues,  elegant  vases  and  beau 
tiful  flowers,  a  piano,  mirrors,  and  numerous  articles 
of  vertu,  adorn  the  rooms. 

And  while  other  people  here  are  quite  content  to 
rest  their  weary  heads  upon  ordinary  couches,  this 
young  man  has  rose-colored  dreams  under  a  pink 
silk  spread  which  is  covered  with  white  dotted 
Swiss,  and  bordered  with  ruffles  and  pink  ribbon. 

This  rich  young  American  rides  out  every  day 
like  a  prince  in  a  carriage  and  four,  followed  by 
scores  of  admiring  bright  eyes.  Alas  !  such  young 
men  are  not  apt  to  be  matrimonially  inclined,  and  it 
is  to  be  feared  that  the  Saratoga  belles  will  sigh, 

O  w** 

and  their  mammas  manoeuvre  in  vain.  To  be  hand 
some  and  rich,  clever  and  good-hearted  withal,  is  to 
be  a  source  of  immense  attraction  in  a  place  like 
Saratoga. 

An  interesting,  but  rather  horrible,  individual, 
because  so  doleful,  is  a  gentleman  with  a  long,  pale 
face,  eyes  deep  set  in  his  head,  a  sepulchral  voice, 
who  has  the  odd  fancy  of  wearing  a  death's-head 
upon  his  shirt  front.  And  this  death's-head  is  con- 


AMONG  THE  LIONS.  151 

ti  nually  opening  and  shutting  its  ghastly  month, 
which  horrible  operation  is  performed  by  means  of 
a  small  galvanic  battery,  which  its  owner  carries  in 
his  pocket.  Now,  is  not  there  one  evidence  of 
distinguished  taste  in  the  way  of  personal  adorn 
ment  ? 

Another  person  well  calculated  to  inspire  horror 
in  the  minds  of  those  who  are  fond  of  taking  peeps 
into  the  dark  mysteries  of  life,  is  a  man  who  goes  by 
the  familiar  name  of  Bluebeard.  He  is  a  widower, 
with  the  rather  alarming  reputation  of  having  spir 
ited  away  three  wives.  Humor  says  that  he  is  now 
here  in  search  of  a  fourth,  but  he  might  as  well 
pack  his  trunk  and  bid  farewell  to  Saratoga,  for  the 
young  ladies  are  all  terribly  afraid  of  him,  and 
there  is  always  a  sudden  disappearance  of  the 
belles  whenever  this  ogre  approaches. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  the  young  politician, 
who  is  surely  a  rising  star  in  the  political  world, 
and  who  has  now  so  fine  an  opportunity  of  display 
ing  his  capabilities. 

He  talks  like  an  orator,  warms  into  enthusiasm 
with  his  subject,  and  has  already  converted  all  the 
ladies,  and  not  a  small  number  of  the  gentleman,  to 
his  party.  While  other  young  gentlemen  are  flying 
through  the  dance  in  the  ball-room  above,  this 


152          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

sedate  youth,  who  seems  to  have  no  relish  for 
such  frivolity  at  this  momentous  time,  sits  upon 
the  piazza  and  eloquently  discusses  his  favorite 
theme. 


XXII. 

BUZZ. 

CONSIDERING  the  scarcity  of  the  "  busy  bees  "  in 
Saratoga,  the  incessant  hum  is  certainly  something 
wonderful. 

Buzz,  buzz,  buzz,  all  day  long,  from  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  after  twelve  at  night — although 
we  would  not  undertake  to  mention  the  individuals 
who  commence  their  hum  in  the  early  morning. 

To  rise  early  is  one  of  the  impossibilities  of  a 
watering-place  life. 

Heavens  !  one  must  have  more  sleep  than  a  peri 
winkle — especially  as  the  periwinkle  has  nothing  to 
do  but  to  wink  and  blink  at  the  sun,  while  here  one 
has  to  dress,  and  dance,  and  talk,  without  even  a 
son  worth  blinking  at,  or  interesting  enough  to  keep 
our  weary  eyes  open. 

But  then  it  is  possible  to  live  upon  hope  ;  and  have 
we  not  a  promise  from  a  dear  little  lady,  who  is  our 
chaperonejpr<9  tern.,  that  a  few  days  more  will  bring 
her  pet  son  to  Saratoga — a  youth  who  is  learned  in 
both  ancient  and  modern  lore,  a  marvellous  young 


154          SPARKLES  FKOM  SARATOGA. 

man  who  can  speak  every  modern  tongue,  and  of 
course  knows  how  to  make  love  in  his  own — a 
youth,  in  short,  who  has  travelled  all  over  the  world 
and  come  home,  heart  whole,  to  lay  his  heart  at  the 
feet  of  some  charming  American. 

So  that  the  future  has  something  yet  in  store, 
unless,  indeed,  that  bright-eyed  young  belle,  who  is 
this  very  moment  endeavoring  to  ensnare  Fitz  Hugh 
with  her  fascinations,  while  we  are  a  martyr  to  the 
miserable  business  of  writing  letters,  should  snap 
him  up  immediately. 

But  to  return  to  the  hum.  One  cannot  help 
wondering  what  all  these  people  are  so  incessantly 
talking  about — for  conversation  never  seems  to  flag. 
To  pause,  to  listen,  and  watch  the  animated  gestures 
and  expressive  faces  upon  every  side,  one  would 
think  that  each  individual  was  compressing  into  a 
brief  half  hour's  talk  all  the  information  he  pos 
sessed,  or  that,  fearing  suddenly  to  make  his  exit 
from  this  world,  he  was  bent  upon  having  an  em 
phatic  "  last  say." 

The  gentlemen,  of  course,  have  at  present  but 
one  topic — and  that  is,  politics.  Really  these  sober- 
headed  men  call  themselves  morally  sane;  but  to 
hear  them  simply  expressing  their  political  opinions, 
we  would  fancy  them  to  be  newly  escaped  lunatics. 


BUZZ.  155 

Talk  about  fighting;  duels  for  love  !     It  is  a  won- 

O  O 

der  that  these  hot-headed  politicians  do  not  blow 
each  other's  brains  out  every  day!  We  always 
make  it  a  point  to  graciously  retire  from  the  scene 
when  we  see  a  political  breeze  rising.  It  is  so  dis 
agreeable  to  sit  between  a  fiery  Republican  and  a 
crazy  Democrat,  and  wonder  what  is  coming  next. 
Such  a  position  forcibly  reminds  us  of  the  pathetic 
state  of  that  little  boy  who  begged  his  mother  to 
punish  him  immediately,  as  anything  was  better 
than  a  state  of  suspense  ! 

The  young  people  do  not  trouble  their  heads 
very  much  about  political  warfare,  but  their  talk  em 
braces  an  alarming  amount  of  flirtation  and  love- 
making  in  their  quiet  chats  and  walks  upon  the 
piazza,  or  while  sitting  in  some  retired  corner  of 
the  parlor.  For  one  of  the  principal  charms  of  the 
Congress  Hall  parlor  is  its  peculiar  adaptability  to 
morning  flirtations — it  has  so  many  cosey  little 
nooks ;  such  luxurious  tetes-d-tetea  ;  such  immense 
fauteuils  in  which  one  can  be  buried  to  every  being 
except  the  person  for  whom  one  wishes  at  that  mo 
ment  to  live. 

And  then  there  is  the  new  carpet  in  this  charming 
parlor — which  it  is  impossible  to  look  upon  without 
having  a  tinge  of  romance,  for  it  is  truly  beautiful. 


156  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

and  always  suggestive  of  floods  of  moonlight  falling 
upon  a  profusion  of  pale  roses  and  lilies. 

The  one  particular  belle  whom  we  mentioned 
above,  is  to-day  a  little  disconsolate,  for  she  declares 
that  she  flirted  all  yesterday  morning  with  Croesus 
in  the  parlor,  endured  his  nonsense  on  the  piazza 
after  dinner,  when  she  was  dying  to  hear  the  music, 
and  danced  half  the  evening  with  him  -at  the  hop 
last  night — and  yet  he  hasn't  proposed. 

What  a  stupid  he  is,  to  be  sure ! 

It  is  astonishing  what  a  malicious  pleasure  peo 
ple  seem  to  take  in  laughing  at  the  misfortunes  of 
others. 

"We  affect  to  be  very  aristocratic  here  at  the  Con 
gress,  but  we  enjoy  a  good  heart}7  laugh  sometimes 
— and  but  just  a  moment  ago  the  throng  upon  the 
piazza  were  in  a  perfect  roar. 

Laughing  at  some  unlucky  individual,  of  course. 
The  fun  .was  this : 

A  sedate-looking  farmer,  wearing  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  was  driving  slowly  down  the  street 
with  a  load  of  watermelons.  His  horse,  a  perfect 
Rozinante  in  meagreness-  of  flesh  and  multiplicity 
of  bones,  was  evidently  inspired  with  a  Quixotic 
idea  of  acquiring  fame,  arid  therefore,  just  at  the 
moment  when  the  unsuspecting  farmer  was  passing 


BUZZ.  157 

the  hotel,  Rozinante  walked  gravely  ahead  with  the 
front  pair  of  wheels,  leaving  the  wagon,  farmer,  and 
melons  in  the  lurch. 

Their  sudden  descent  to  the  ground,  and  evident 
amazement  at  this  unwonted  state  of  affairs,  was 
ludicrous,  indeed.  The  farmer  sat, not  in  his  "easy 
chair,"  but  upon  the  ground,  with  his  eyes  as  large  as 
saucers,  his  broad-brimmed  hat  rolling  away  after 
Rozinante,  and  the  jolly  melons  careering  in  every 
direction  like  a  set  of  urchins  just  let  loose.  The 
wagon  put  on  a  most  dejected  air,  and  the  front 
wheels  went  rolling  sedately  down  the  street  follow 
ing  the  wicked  Rozinante.  Not  a  Dulcinea  upon 
the  piazza  but  burst  into  a  merry  laugh,  and  every 
swain  of  course  followed  suit. 

There  is  nothing  so  contagious  as  laughter.  We 
might,  perhaps,  make  an  exception  of  flirtation, 
this  latter  caprice  of  human  nature  having  been  an 
epidemic  in  Saratoga  this  season. 

It  is  amusing  to  watch  the  people  as  they  come 
down  to  the  springs  ;  to  wonder  whence  they  have 
come,  and  whither  tfyey  will  go ! 

You  can  easily  tell  the  new-comers  by  the  wry 
faces  they  make  upon  tasting  the  waters,  putting 
down  the  first  glass  but  half  emptied,  while  the  old 


158  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

habitues  quaff  their  five   or  six    glasses,  with  the 
utmost  sang  froid. 

What  a  motley  concourse!  Hither  comes  old 
age  seeking,  perhaps,  renewal  of  youth ;  here,  too, 
gather  the  young,  and  the  beautiful,  to  add  fresh 
roses  to  their  cheeks  ;  here  mingle  the  sad  and  the 
gay ;  those  that  count  each  day  lost  which  brings 
not  some  new  joy  ;  and  those  who,  looking  mourn 
fully  into  the  past,  weep  over  days  that  are  no 
more !  Days 

"Dear  as  remembered  kisses  after  death, 
And  sweet  as  those  by  hopeless  fancy  feigned 
On  lips  that  are  for  others  !    Deep  as  love, 
Deep  as  first  love,  and  wild  with  all  regret; 
O  Death  in  Life,  the  days  that  are  no  more  ! " 

All,  were  there  but  some  enchanted  place  within 
whose  shaded  groves  bubbled  the  fountain  of  Eternal 
Youth !  How  numberless,  as  the  leaves  of  the  forest, 
would  be  those  who  gathered  there ! 

And,  if  in  some  secluded  nook,  the  Fountain  of 
Oblivion  offered  its  dark  and  mystic  waters  for  a 
solace  to  the  heart,  what  an  eternity  of  sorrow  would 
be  cast  therein  !  , 

Well  might  the  ancients  have  deemed  forget- 
f  ulness  a  boon  worthy  the  bestowal  of  the  gods  ; 
for  there  are  times,  when  to  forget  past  griefs,  is 
better  than  looking  forward  to  new  joys. 


BUZZ.  159 

Still  better  than  all  these,  if  in  some  sacred  grotto 
the  famed  Castalian  fount  were  springing,  where, 
kneeling  to  sip  of  its  pure  waters,  we  might  drink 
in  poetic  fire  and  lofty  enthusiasm ;  kindling 
thoughts  and  noble  aspirations;  strength  to  rise 
above  the  bitterness  of  the  world,  and  courage  to 
overcome  the  ills  and  the  sorrows  of  life. 

Speaking  of  the  ancient  fabled  waters,  is  there 
not  still  flowing  in  some  secluded  spot,  some  Lydian 
stream  in  which  our  millionaires  have  bathed,  and 
thus  acquired  the  power  of  transmuting  all  they 
touch  into  gold  ?  but  finding,  alas  !  like  poor  King 
Midas,  how  little  happiness  their  gold  can  bring. 


XXIII. 

FLIRTATIONS. 

REALLY,  we  have  not  been  able  to  turn  our  eyes 
toward  any  point  of  the  compass  without  seeing  a 
pair  of  lovers. 

Billers  and  cooers,  flirters  and  flirtees  (that  List  is 
original,  flirtee  meaning  the  person  who  is  flirted 
with)  are  to  be  met  at  every  step,  occupying  every 
corner,  strolling  through  every  shaded  walk,  and 
monopolizing  the  best  places  generally. 

It  is  a  great  mistake  for  people  to  hide  in  a  quiet 
place  to  carry  on  a  flirtation. 

Better  be  spoony  in  public,  my  dears,  for  some 
one  is  sure  to  drop  your  way  just  at  the  most  inter 
esting  stage  of  the  conversation ;  and  to  be  sitting 
alone  in  a  corner  is  always  terribly  suggestive  of 
love-making — that  is,  of  course,  allowing  two  people 
to  that  particular  corner. 

We  have  derived  much  amusement  in  watching 
the  artful  devices  of  one  pair  of  lovers  who  for  the 
last  week  have  been  vainly  endeavoring  to  delude 
the  world  into  the  belief  that  they  are  enjoying  a 


FLIRTATIONS.  161 

sort  of  quiet  friendship — without  a  spark  of  love  in 
it. 

This  charming  couple  take  a  book,  and  seeking 
out  some  place  where  they  fondly  hope  and  believe 
that  no  intruder  will  venture,  they  sit  holding  the 
book  between  them,  pretending  to  read. 

Now  what  that  book  is  all  about  I  have  not  vent- 
ured  close  enough  to  see.  But  that  the  readers  are 
learning  love's  alphabet  from  it,  and  fast  coining 
the  mystical  letters  into  words,  I  have  not  the  slight 
est  doubt. 

It  is  such  a  nice  way  of  making  love,  to  sit  with  a 
handsome  yo'ing  man  holding  one  side  of  a  book — • 
the  book  being  small — pretending  to  read,  and  cer 
tain  that  others  hear  nothing  of  the  whispers  let  fall 
between  the  sentences ! 

Now,  I  have  had  a  suspicion  that  this  couple  to 
whom  I  refer  have  not  the  slightest  idea  of  what 
that  book,  which  seems  to  form  a  sort  of  connecting 
link  between  their  hearts,  contains. 

To-day  my  suspicion  was  verified,  for  they  were 
quietly  studying  the  title  page,  and  a  person  would 
think  that  they  have  hung  long  enough  over  that 
volume  to  have  gathered  all  its  golden  treasures  of 
love  and  poetry  long  ago. 

But  no ;  there  they  sit,  their  eyes  looking   tinut- 


1G2          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

terable  thoughts  at  each  other  ;  their  lips  silent  but 
eloquent ;  their  finger-tips  j  ust  touching ;  while  they 
turn  the  pages  of  that  unread  volume — learning 
life's  sweetest  lesson,  and  yet  almost  unconscious  of 
it.  Ah ! 

"  There's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life 
As  Love's  young  dream." 

Another  desperate  flirtation — not  a  real,  genuine 
love  affair,  with  a  true  sentiment  in  it,  but  a  Sara 
toga  flirtation — has  been  going  on  for  the  last  four 
days  in  the  parlor. 

Up  in  the  corner,  of  course  ;  the  lady  sitting  half 
buried  in  a  luxurious  chair,  flirting  her  fan  grace 
fully,  and  flirting  her  eyes  at  the  same  time  at  her 
adorer,  who  sits  in  front  of  her. 

The  young  man  carries  a  cane,  which  helps  him 
to  support  himself  under  these  trying  circumstances. 

The  young  lady  has  been  a  belle  for  more  than 
one  season  ;  she  is  quite  aufcdt  in  the  art  of  break 
ing  hearts,  and  she  is  just  as  sure  of  singeing  the 
wings  of  this  poor  man-butterfly  as  she  is  sure  of  es 
caping  heart-whole  herself. 

As  for  the  poor  youth  in  the  case,  the  only  hope 
for  him  is  that  he  is  so  much  absorbed  in  his  mous 
tache,  that  it  certainly  requires  an  effort  on  his  part 


FLIRTATIONS.  1 63 

to  devote  any  number  of  consecutive  minutes  to  any 
one  woman. 

Ah,  that  moustache ! 

Combed,  and  curled,  and  carefully  waxed  at  the 
ends,  what  a  pathetic  monument  of  manly  devotion 
it  is,  to  be  sure ! 

Some  men  make  an  idol  of  their  ambrosial  locks ; 
some  devote  themselves,  not  to  the  matrimonial  tie, 
but  to  that  more  important  one,  the  cravat ;  some 
practise  in  twirling  the  cane  gracefully,  and  others 
endeavor  to  make  their  eyes  beautiful  by  the  inces 
sant  smoking  of  cigars. 

But  this  particular  young  man  has  his  heart's  love 
in  his  moustache. 

Now,  not  one  man  mentioned  among  the  above 
specimens  of  the  genus  is  worth  one  snap  for  a  lover. 

Who  wants  an  adorer  who  is  utterly  absorbed  in 
himself  ? 

And  we  wonder  that  that  practised  belle  can 
take  any  pleasure  in  flirting  so  long  with  a  mere 
moustache ! 

We  have  solved  the  mystery  in  our  own  minds, 
by  supposing  that  she  fondly  imagines  that  he  is 
admiring  her  eyes ;  while  he  just  as  delusively 
dreams  that  she  sees  or  admires  nothing  but  that 
love  of  a  moustache. 


164r  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

And  so  both  are  happy,  and  this  flirtation  goes  on 
admirably. 

"No  especial  hour  is  set  apart  for  this  Saratoga 
amusement. 

We  have  times  to  eat  and  to  sleep  ;  to  dance,  to 
drive,  and  to  walk  ;  but  the  flirtations  go  on  as  un 
interruptedly  as  the  air  we  breathe. 

And  so  they  become  epidemic. 

The  last  and  the  most  unexpected  flirtation  of  all, 
has  been  carried  on  by  a  staid,  moderate  old  bache 
lor,  rich  as  Croesus,  and  a  pretty  widow. 

Now  it  takes  these  widows  to  inveigle  a  man's 
heart  into  invisible  meshes,  and  to  capture  the  poor 
fellow  before  he  is  really  aware  of  it. 

That  is,  if  she  fairly  sets  about  it ;  and  so  this 
charming  widow  has  bewitched  this  forlorn  old 
bachelor  into  believing  that  she  is  an  angel  disguised, 
and  that  he  is  the  one  man  who  could  make  her 
happy ;  she  has  charmed  him  into  forgetting  all  his 
dread  and  horror  of  the  sex  ;  into  a  serious  flirtation 
which  looks  very  much  like  ending  in  a  wedding. 

Ah  well !  so  much  for  the  constancy  of  a  man  to 
his  principles.  For,  when  a  man  makes  a  resolution 
not  to  marry,  he  should  not  allow  himself  to  be  be 
witched  into  matrimony,  and  then  spend  his  days-  in 
reproaching  his  wife  for  his  folly. 


FLIRTATIONS.  165 

That  is  the  way  all  old  bachelors  do. 

A  favorite  spot  for  a  flirtation  is  down  in  the 
park.  That  is,  if  the  two  seats  provided  for  senti 
mental  lovers  happen  to  be  unoccupied ! 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  all  the  flirting  ac 
complished  here  is  done  by  young  people  or  by  un 
married  people. 

There  are  any  number  of  married  flirts  on  the 
carpet.  Such  sly  flirting,  too  ;  principally  done  by 
the  married  men.  These  men  keep  a  sharp  lookout 
for  their  wives,  and  do  up  all  the  domestic  wicked 
ness  themselves. 

There  is  plenty  of  excuse  for  putting  the  dear 
wife  out  of  the  way. 

Not  absolutely  drowning  or  choking  her  off,  but 
by  more  delusive  means,  such  as  mildly  suggesting 
that  the  atmosphere  of  the  ball-room  might  injure 
her  health,  or  that  late  hours  will  steal  the  roses  from 
her  cheek,  and  thus  cause  the  poor  husband  a  pang. 

And  so  these  confiding  wives,  who  have  a  dread 
of  stepping  out  and  leaving  gay  widowers  behind 
them,  march  dutifully  off  to  their  rooms,  while  their 
odious  husbands  indulge  in  numberless  flirtations. 

I  notice  that  every  man  who  has  a  pretty  wife  is 
inclined  to  be  jealous  of  her,  and  we  have  plenty  of 
green-eyed  monsters  of  husbands  in  our  midst.  They 


166  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

are  such  interesting  creatures — something  of  the 
thunder-cloud  style.  There  ought  to  be  a  patent 
glass  case  in  which  to  imprison  pretty  wives,  for  the 
benefit  of  these  jealous  lunatics. 

"  My  dear,"  says  one  of  these  devoted  husbands  to 
his  loving  wife,  "  I  am  going  to  town  for  a  few  days. 
You  must  not  think  of  dancing  with  that  fellow 
Jones,  nor  of  waltzing  with  Smith ; — indeed,  you  had 
better  not  attend  the  hops  or  balls,  being  unpro 
tected.  And  I  wouldn't  go  down  to  the  spring  in 
the  morning  ;  nor  especially  in  the  evening.  And, 
if  you  are  invited  to  drive,  why  you  can  excuse 
yourself — write  to  me  every  day ;  and  that,  with 
looking  after  the  baby  and  nurse,  will  afford  you 
amusement  enough  until  my  return."  That  is  the 
way  these  jealous  husbands  bid  an  affectionate  adieu 
to  the  partner  of  their  sorrows,  not  of  their  joys, 
and  go  to  the  city  to  be  devoured  with  curiosity  as 
to  what  their  wives  are  doing  in  their  absence,  and 
to  come  back  greener-eyed  than  ever. 

Y7e  feel  sorry  for  these  self-deluded  individuals  ! 
\Te  should  like  to  drown  every  one  of  them  in  a 
frog  pond,  sure  that  they  would  come  up  an  army 
of  croakers  all  arrayed  in  green  coats. 


WIDOWEKS. 

OLD  bachelors  are  to  be  snubbed,  widowers  to  be 
considered.  Therefore  we  proceed  to  consider  this 
species  of  the  genus  homo,  especially  that  portion 
who  have  come  hither  this  season  in  throngs. 

There  are  times  when  blackberries  are  excessively 
plenty  ;  likewise  widowers.  The  present  is  one  of 
those  seasons  at  Saratoga. 

Every  other  man  you  meet  who  has  passed  his 
first  flush  of  youth,  is  either  a  man  who  has  never 
committed  his  fate  to  matrimony,  or  one  who  wears 
a  weed. 

That  is,  he  is  either  a  bachelor  or  a  widower. 
And  more  than  that,  half  of  the  married  men  who 
have  escaped  from  the  domestic  hearth  and  come 
here,  pretend  to  be  widowers. 

They  appear  to  fancy  that  because  widows  are 
charming,  widowers  must  be  enchanting. 

In  olden  times  the  Romans  took  their  Penates 
with  them,  but  our  modern  men  seem  to  especially 
delight  in  leaving  everything  of  the  sort  at  home  ; 


1G8          SPARKLES  FEOM  SARATOGA. 

especially  their  wives !  But  now  for  the  Saratoga 
widowers : 

First,  there  is  widower  Grant,  who  is  extremely 
rich,  and  therefore  extremely  respectable.  He  is  al 
ways  dressed  so  neatly  and  so  carefully,  that  one 
cannot  help  wondering  how  this  lonely  man  is  able 
to  take  such  good  care  of  himself.  He  has  been  a 
widower  for  ten  years.  As  he  has  not  married  the 
second  time  it  is  universally  believed  that  he  still 
mourns. 

And  Saratoga  is  such  a  nice  place  in  which  to 
mourn !  It  is  so  charming  to  stand  beside  the 
famous  springs,  and  imagine  them  to  be  Lethean 
waters,  wherein  all  trouble  and  grief  may  be  lost 
forever.  That  is,  we  cannot  help  supposing  that 
these  waters  have  this  effect,  since  widowers  seem 
to  be  blessed  with  remarkably  short  memories. 

You  cannot  converse  many  times  with  a  widow 
without  hearing  her  mention  the  late  dear  de 
parted.  She  will  expatiate  upon  his  merits,  his  gen 
erosity,  his  virtues — de  mortuis  nil  nisi  fionmn. 
And  thus  she  often  awakens  in  the  heart,  of  her  ad 
mirer  a  strong  desire  to  take  the  dear  man's  place 
and  to  emulate  his  virtues. 

But  the  widowers !  Bah  !  I  have  talked  with  fifty 
of  them,  and  positively  I  have  never  yet  heard 


WIDOWERS.  169 

the  defunct  Mrs.  Sigma  or  Madame  Alpha  even 
once  alluded  to. 

I  have  pondered  upon  the  subject,  and  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  a  widower  who  remem 
bers  the  spouse  who  died  a  dozen  years  ago  (if  he  re 
members  her  at  all),  remembers  her  as  a  rather  old- 
fashioned  individual,  whose  image  sometimes  con 
fronts  him  amid  the  brilliant  scenes  of  Saratoga,  and 
who  suffers  very  much  in  comparison  with  the  gay 
young  belles  who  flourish  here. 

In  fact,  he  looks  upon  her  faded  memory  as  we 
are  apt  to  regard  an  old-fashioned  portrait. 

And  he  puts  the  old-fashioned  portrait  one  side  ; 
turns  its  face  to  the  wall,  and  basks  in  the  smiles  of 
more  modern  beauties. 

And  thus  it  is  that  he  never  alludes  to  the 
object  whom  he  is  believed  so  devoutly  to  mourn. 

As  for  the  different  types  of  widowers,  there  is 
the  elderly  man,  whose  hair  is  gray,  whose  teeth 
are  nearly  all  gone,  who  has  a  crook  in  his  back, 
and  who  is  shaky  on  his  knees,  and  yet  who  is  so 
self -conceited,  that  he  imagines  every  pretty  woman 
is  trying  to  inveigle  him  into  perpetrating  matri 
mony  once  more.  Poor  man !  he  recalls  with 
trembling  the  lectures  and  admonitions  of  days 
gone  by,  which  his  gentle  spouse  was  in  the  habit 


170  SPAKKLES   FJ2OM    SARATOGA. 

of  administering,  and  is  too  glad  to  be  free  from  the 
harness  to  put  it  on  again. 

Next  comes  the  hale  and  hearty  widower,  with 
his  hair  tinged  with  gray;  but  with  a  heart  as 
young  as  ever.  The  only  reason  that  this  man 
does  not  get  married  seems  to  be  that  the  young 
ladies  snub  him,  and  for  the  old  ones  he  has  no  ad 
miration.  He  forgets  that  he,  himself,  is  old.  He 
is  on  the  lookout  for  a  young  wife,  and  some  foolish 
girl  who  is  attracted  by  his  money  will  at  last  accept 
him,  and  cozen  the  old  man  into  the  belief  that  she 
loves  him. 

His  after  experience  of  connubial  bliss  will 
probably  consist  in  finding  that  he  has  a  young 
wife  who  is  fonder  of  flirting  with  young  men  than 
of  stroking  his  gray  whiskers,  and  rubbing  his 
spectacles,  and  attending  generally  to  his  antiquated 
wants. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  love  an  old  man  ? " 
said  a  widower  of  this  sort,  with  his  most  sentimen 
tal  air,  to  Miss  Madge. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  replied  Madge,  who  thought 
the  question  rather  personal.  "  Grandpa  is  a  dear 
old  fellow,  but  then  he  cannot  dance  the  i  dip,'  for 
he  is  troubled  with  gout ;  he  drinks  Congress  water, 
which  is  horrible ;  he  snores  terribly ;  in  fact,  no 


WIDOWERS.  171 

one  would  think  of  falling  in  love  with  my  grand 
pa — and  why  should  I  fall  in  love  with  anybody 
else's  grandpa "?  "  Which  settled  the  question. 

The  most  interesting  and  the  most  captivating 
of  all  widowers  is  the  young  widower.  If  he  has 
one  or  two  children,  it  is  astonishing  what  a  sudden 
interest  all  the  young  ladies  take  in  the  "  sweet 
little  dears,"  how  much  anxiety  they  express  on 
their  account,  and  how  tenderly  they  sympathize 
with  the  young  man  in  his  loss. 

If  the  young  widower  keeps  house,  how  much 
sorrow  is  expressed  for  his  lonely  condition  !  and  if 
the  house  be  a  brown-stone  front,  the  feminine 
sympathy  is  something  wonderful  to  contemplate. 

Mammas,  too,  seize  hold  of  this  forlorn  young 
man,  and  talk  in  a  motherly  way  of  the  need  his 
little  ones  have  of  maternal  care — of  the  necessity 
a  mansion  has  of  a  mistress,  etc.,  etc.,  and  then 
usually  follows  a  pathetic  allusion  to  the  remarkable 
domestic  virtues  of  their  own  daughters. 

There  isn't  a  young  unmarried  man  who  stands  a 
chance  of  winning  when  his  rival  is  a  handsome, 
;  rich  young  widower. 

As  for  the  widows,  we  have  several  specimens  of 
feminine  mourners  here. 

They  have  such  an  agreeable  way  of  mourning, 


172  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

too.  They  wear  such  dainty  toilettes,  such  airy 
black  dresses,  such  cunning  little  widow's  caps,  for 
there  is  no  use  of  being  a  widow  unless  you  let 
.people  know  it  by  wearing  a  cap.  "We  have  jolly 
widows  here  whose  lives  seem  perpetual  sunbeams  ; 
we  have  fair,  languishing  widows,  sentimental 
widows,  tall  and  stately  widows,  widows  who  are 
rigid  and  serene,  to  whom  no  man  would  even  ven 
ture  to  propose,  and  widows  whose  every  glance  is  a 
man-trap  to  catch  some  unwary  heart. 

Do  not  imagine  a  widow  is  rich  because  she 
spends  her  season  at  Saratoga.  Diamonds  and 
costly  garments  are  not  necessary  to  a  widow's 
wardrobe,  and  she  may,  or  may  not,  have  those  arti 
cles  at  her  command. 

It  is  very  easy  to  borrow  a  little  boy ;  have  one 
or  two  stylish  mourning  dresses  most  elaborately 
weeded ;  a  cap  or  two  of  white  muslin,  which  is 
after  all  but  an  apology  for  a  cap,  being  a  becoming 
white  bow  with  two  long  ends — and  come  here  and 
pass  for  a  young  widow. 

Papas  who  have  failed  to  marry  off  their  daugh 
ters  after  several  expensive  seasons  at  Saratoga, 
and  who  find  them  on  their  hands  decidedly  passe, 
might  humor  the  widow  farce  and  find  it  quite 
economical. 


WIDOWERS.  173 

We  notice  that  the  ricli  widows,  those  who 
really  have  all  they  wish  at  command — have  no 
idea  of  getting  married  again.  They  enjoy  their 
independence  too  heartily  to  relinquish  it,  which 
entitles  them  to  be  placed  upon  the  list  of  sensible 
widows. 


XXV. 


THE  young  man  from  abroad  has  promised  to  tell 
U.SN  about  his  love  affairs.  At  present  he  seems  to 
have,  as  he  pathetically  expresses  it,  a  "  morning, 
noon,  and  night  love !  " 

As  I  have  before  remarked,  the  young  lady  who 
is  charming  in  the  evening,  is  not  always  adorable  in 
the  morning,  and  vice  versa,  which  probably  ac 
counts  for  this  young  man's  diversity  of  sweet 
hearts. 

For  a  time  he  was  desperately  taken  with  the 
sweet,  spirituelle  face  and  beautiful  ringlets  of  a 
fair  lady  -here.  But  yesterday  he  discovered  that 
the  ringlets  were  false,  and  although  the  sweet  face  is 
still  there,  it  has  lost  its  charm. 

But,  speaking  of  the  difference  between  morning 
and  evening,  even  the  young  man  from  abroad 
wears  a  new  and  strange  aspect  to-day.  He  is  re 
markably  pale.  He  has,  I  fear,  been  refused  by  the 
merry  little  heiress,  and  although  he  has  many 
times  whispered  his  love,  he  refrains  from  circulat- 


THE  BACHELOR'S  TRUNK. 


1Y5 

ing  his  cruel  disappointment.  Poor  fellow !  It  is 
such  a  pathetic  sight  to  see  him  lose  his  roses,  to  be 
hold 

"  Concealment,  like  a  worm  f  the  bud, 
Feed  on  his  damask  cheek  ! " 

But  as  he  has  a  "  love  "  for  each  time  of  the  day,  he 
will  undoubtedly  soon  recover. 

It  is  no  unusual  circumstance  for  a  young  lady  to 
visit  Saratoga  with  a  half  dozen  trunks,  sundry  par 
cels,  bandboxes,  etc. 

Poodles  are,  generally,  thank  fortune !  left  at 
home.  Probably  in  view  of  the  fact  that  plenty 
of  the  species  may  be  found  here. 

But  when  a  gentleman  finds  three  trunks  scarcely 
adequate  to  containing  his  wardrobe  and  "fixings," 
the  fact  certainly  demands  our  attention. 

As  we  have  had  an  amusing  account  of  such  a 
trio  of  trunks,  which  belong  to  a  young  bachelor,  and 
of  their  delightful  state  of  disorder — just  as  might  be 
expected  of  a  solitary  man — we  cannot  help  linger 
ing  a  little  while  over  the  troubles  of  the  owner  of 
these  same  trunks — whom  we  have  dubbed  the 
majestic  bachelor. 

When  he  wishes  to  especially  array  himself  for 
any  particular  occasion,  as  for  instance  a  ball  or 


170  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

hop,  he  is  obliged  to  call  in  the  assistance  of  a  friend 
to  assist  him  at  his  toilette. 

The  first  business  of  this  "  full  dress "  occasion 
is,  of  course,  to  find  the  garments  required. 

The  friend  kindly  consents  to  rummage  the  three 
trunks,  and  being  informed  that  there  larks  some 
where  in  the  recesses  of  those  receptacles,  a  swallow 
tail  coat,  he  commences  to  search — "fishing  for 
bites,"  as  he  quaintly  expresses  it. 

He  dives  into  trunk  number  One.  The  first 
thing 'which  appears,  is  a  pair  of  inexpressibles, 
considerably  too  short  and  too  narrow  for  their 
owner, — evidently  not  a  dress  coat. 

The  next  plunge  brings  up  a  pair  of  boots, 
crammed  with  white  cravats,  and  gloves  of  all 
colors.  Examination  reveals  the  cravats  too  rumpled 
for  further  use,  and  the  gloves  are  entirely  too 
small  for  the  majestic  bachelor,  since  they  bear  evi 
dence  of  having  been  worn  by  fair  hands  alone. 

Which  is  also  strongly  suggestive  of  the  fact  that 
these  gloves  are  sundry  gages  d?  amour  which  this 
young  man  has  received.  If  the  young  ladies  who 
bestowed  them  could  only  see  that  pair  of  boots, 
which  has,  alas,  become  their  common  receptacle ! 
Further  search  in  that  trunk  brings  up  no  coat  of 
the  desired  pattern,  it  being  filled  to  overflowing 


177 

with  a  nondescript  amount  of  clothing,  mixed  np 
with  boot-jacks,  bowie-knives,  Indian  pipes,  black 
tresses  which  must  have  been  clipped  from  some 
Indian  enchantress,  for  our  friend  has  roughed  it  on 
the  frontiers,  and,  in  fact,  everything  but  the  re 
quired  garment. 

Trunk  No.  Two  then  undergoes  inspection. 

And,  lo !  what  a  revelation  is  there !  Photo 
graphs  of  all  styles  of  feminine  beauties — not  a  hor 
rid  man  among  them ! — sweet,  tender  missives  writ 
ten  by  fair  hands  which  have  been  forgotten  long 
ago,  and — mirabile  dictu  ! — the  locks  of  hair ! 

Heally  it  would  be  well  for  this  majestic  bachelor 
to  have  a  little  sale  of  false  tresses,  for  he  has  an 
alarming  collection  of  black  and  brown,  of  red  and 
golden  tresses ;  in  fact,  of  every  shade  of  hair  which 
ever  adorned  a  woman's  head. 

Perhaps  it  is  because  "  woman's  hair  is  like 
wine,"  as  he  is  fond  of  saying,  that  he  has  so  care 
fully  treasured  up  the  collection. 

It  is  painful  to  reflect  how  this  foolish  man  must 
have  been  deceived. 

How  many  of  those  locks  does  he  suppose  really 
grew  upon  the  heads  of  their  wearers  ? 

And  what  young  lady  in  these  days  l^as  ringlets  lux 
uriant  enough  to  spare  a  lock  to  each  of  her  lovers  ? 


178  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

And  then,  again,  what  young  lady  would  care  to 
see  her  lovelock  mingled  with  such  a  mass  of  di 
verse  tresses  as  were  huddled  together  in  this  man's 
trunk  ?  Those  photographs,  too  ! 

Bah  !  the  fickleness  and  inconstancy  of  man  ! 

Every  nook  and  corner  of  that  trunk  was  filled 
with  these  mementos  of  past  affections,  a  perfect 
forest  of  dead  leaves ;  and  with  these,  also,  were 
dozens  of  embroidered  slippers,  watch-pockets, 
smoking-caps,  and  embroidered  cravats,  all  made 
by  fair  fingers,  and  presented  to  this  thankless 
man. 

But  still  no  dress  coat.  With  a  look  of  despair, 
this  bachelor's  friend  throws  open  the  third  trunk. 

To  describe  what  there  met  his  astonished  gaze,  I 
will  not  even  attempt.  Whoever  has  peeped  into  a 
bachelor's  sanctum,  or  investigated  a  bachelor's 
trunk,  may  conceive  of  the  grand  confusion,  the 
utter  contempt  of  the  motto,  "  Everything  in  its 
place,"  which  this  trunk  revealed.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  the  trunk  was  thoroughly  searched ;  then  its 
contents  emptied  upon  the  floor — but  still  no  swallow 
tail ! 

The  two  other  trunks  shared  the  same  fate,  and 
the  bachelor's,  sanctum  presented  a  fearful  picture 
of  disorder.  And  then,  after  all,  the  coat  was  found 


A  BACHELOR'S  TRUNKS.  179 

at  last,  hanging  upon   a   solitary  peg  behind   the 
door !  just  like  a  man's  forgetfulness  ! 

And  so  the  majestic  bachelor,  and  his  friend,  who, 
by  the  way,  happens  to  be  no  other  than  the  young 
man  from  abroad,  went  at  last  to  the  ball. 


XXVI. 

THE    TOURNAMENT. 

WHO  would  not  be  in  Saratoga  and  witness  a 
tournament  ? 

Yesterday  afternoon,  at  five  o'clock,  this  long- 
talked-of  affair  came  off  at  Glen  Mitchell,  a  short 
distance  from  Saratoga.  A  heavy  shower  of  rain 
was  near  spoiling  all,  but  Jupiter  Pluvius,  evidently 
pitying  the  disconsolate  knights  who,  clad  in  armor, 
and  mounted  upon  their  fiery  steeds,  were  im 
patiently  awaiting  the  great  tilt  for  the  privilege  of 
crowning  the  fair  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty,  and, 
doubtless,  remembering  his  own  gushing  youth  and 
numerous  flirtations,  suddenly  retreated,  and  the 
sun  shone  once  more,  and  everything  was  lovely. 

Especially  the  knights,  who  moved  down  Broad 
way,  an  imposing  cortege  of  warriors,  their  armor 
glittering  in  the  sun,  and  their  helmets  shading  their 
mighty  brows ! 

Madge  says  "  mighty  brows  "  is  stolen  from  Ho 
mer,  but  it  matters  not. 

Here  were  faithful  aspirants  for  fame  from  the 


THE   TOURNAMENT.  181 

sunny  South,  from  the  frigid  North,  and  from  under 
the  melting  skies  of  Saratoga. 

Every  one  here  will  appreciate  that  term  "  melt- 
ing." 

At  the  head  of  this  imposing  array  rode  the  Chief 
Marshal,  distinguished  for  his  princely  bearing,  his 
soldierly  horsemanship,  and  above  all,  for  the  large 
yellow  umbrella  which  he  flaunted  in  the  skies  to 
protect  his  war-bronzed  features  from  the  fervid  sun. 

On  they  rode,  followed  by  scores  and  scores  of 
sparkling  bright  eyes  ;  on  they  rode,  a  goodly  com 
pany  of  noble  youths,  filling  the  hearts  of  the  stiff 
old  bachelors  and  forlorn  old  maidens  with  envy. 

Soberly  these  elderly  individuals  scratched  their 
bare-faced  heads  and  wished,  alas !  to  be  young 
once  more. 

On  they  rode,  followed  by  a  long  retinue  of  splen 
did  equipages  filled  with  the  wealth  and  beauty  of 
the  elite  — by  the  village  people  en  masse,  and  by 
every  little  boy  who  had  chivalry  enough  to  despise 
the  mud  pools  under  his  feet,  and  by  every  cur  who 
had  lungs  enough  to  utter  a  bark. 

Every  stage  and  every  hack,  filled  to  overflowing 
with  people  on  the  qui  vive  to  witness  a  tournament, 
rattled  on  with  incredible  speed  toward  Glen  Mit 
chell. 


182  SPARKLES   FEOM   SARATOGA. 

Arrived  at  this  enchanting  spot,  we  found  the 
grounds  already  filled  with  carriages,  and  the  grand 
stand  thronged  with  fair  ladies  and  their  escorts. 

Much  amusement  was  created  by  a  small  boy — a 
very  small  boy — who  wore  a  mighty  helmet  from 
which  floated  a  long  red  plume,  and  who  held  a 
huge  trumpet  in  his  hand. 

This  small  personage  stood  with  a  nonchalant  air 
upon  the  top  of  a  fence  post,  and  with  a  mighty 
blast  of  the  trumpet  heralded  the  oncoming  of  each 
brave  knight ;  and  at  every  powerful  blast  he  blew 
we  feared  that  the  small  boy  would  be  suddenly 
capsized. 

Three  small  rings  wound  with  red  were  hung  at 
intervals  over  the  course,  and  each  knight  was  ex 
pected  to  take  each  of  these  rings  upon  his  lance  as 
he  went  by  on  his  flying  steed.  But  he  didn't. 

The  trouble  was  not  that  the  riders  were  lacking 
in  skill,  but,  unfortunately,  most  of  the  horses  re 
fused  to  fly ! 

The  obstinate  creatures,  who  evidently  had  no 
spark  of  chivalric  feeling  in  their  jaded  breasts, 
went  leaping  into  the  air  at  every  sound  of  the  trum 
pet,  splashed  around  in  the  fearful  mud  puddles,  or 
gracefully  reared  their  hind  hoofs  against  the  near 
est  fence ! 


THE   TOURNAMENT.  183 

Really  these  horses  seemed  for  once  inspired  with 
ambition,  but  it  was  the  same  ambition  which 
thrilled  that  venturesome  cow  who,  once  upon  a 
time,  is  said  to  have  "  jumped  over  the  moon !  " 

These  Saratoga  coursers  objected  to  spurs ;  they 
were  afraid  of  lances  ;  and  were  obstinately  resolve^ 
not  to  wet  their  precious  hoofs  in  the  pools  which 
lay  in  their  proper  course;  but  they  tried  every 
puddle  to  the  right  of  them,  and  plunged  frantically 
at  every  fence  to  the  left  of  them,  which  made  it 
extremely  inconvenient  to  their  gallant  riders  to 
carry  off  the  rings. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  these  equine  fantastics  ut 
terly  dismayed  the  gallant  knights,  and  many  bit 
terly  repented  that  they  had  left  their  peaceful 
homes  in  the  sunny  South  in  quest  of  Northern 
fame. 

But  who  that  is  worthy  of  the  name  of  Knight 
would  give  up  the  combat  \  The  more  dangers  to 
be  passed,  the  greater  difficulties  to  be  overcome ; 
the  greater  the  victory ;  and  if  not  a  Pegasus  was  to 
be  found  among  the  steeds,  surely  there  were  Bay 
ards,  and  Ivanhoes,  and  Quixotes  enough  among  the 
knights. 

And  so  the  tilt  commenced,  and  those  whose 
horses  consented  to  go  went  flying  past  the  rings, 


184  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

and  cheer  after  cheer  followed  the  knight  who  suc 
cessfully  brought  back  the  three  upon  his  lance. 

Those  who  failed  were  laughed  at  for  their  pains, 
which  was  not  very  courteous  on  the  part  of  the 
spectators,  since  some  of  the  best  riders  were  so 
poorly  mounted  as  to  be  unable  to  win  any  honors 
at  all. 

Daring  the  tilt  there  were  some  splendid  displays 
of  horsemanship.  The  knights  who  especially  dis 
tinguished  themselves  were  the  Knight  of  Wash 
ington  City  ;  the  Knight  of  Fairfax ;  the  Knight  of 
Ontario  ;  the  Knight  of  My  Maryland  ;  the  Knight 
of  Troy ;  the  Knight  of  Marlborough ;  and  the 
Knight  of  Prince  George. 

We  must  not  forget  to  mention  that  no  one  as 
sisted  the  gallant  Chief  Marshal  in  the  manage 
ment  of  that  yellow  umbrella.  The  glory  of  suc 
cessfully  carrying  that  unique  affair  through  the 
tournament  belongs  to  him  alone. 

The  grand  ball  in  the  evening  at  the  Grand 
Union,  which  brought  the  tournament  festivities  to 
a  close,  was  a  brilliant  success. 

The  principal  event  of  the  evening  was  the  crown 
ing  of  the  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty,  and  of  her 
six  maids  of  honor,  these  ladies  being  selected  by 
the  seven  victorious  knights  mentioned  above.  The 


THE   TOURNAMENT.  185 

name  of  each  knight  and  of  his  chosen  lady  was 
gracefully  announced,  and  the  honor  of  crowning 
the  queen  was  accorded  to  the  Knight  of  Washing 
ton  City.  And  so  ended  the  grand  tournament. 

We  have  a  troop  of  wild  Mexicans  here  who  give 
a  daily  exhibition  of  lariating  wild  cattle,  as  is  the 
custom  on  the  plains  of  the  far  West  and  in  Texas. 

In  fact  there  is  no  dearth  of  amusements.  The 
only  trouble  is  to  find  time  to  taste  of  every  pleasure 
as  it  flies. 


XXVII. 

THE   KACES. 

MADGE  offended  Aunt  P.  almost  mortally  yester 
day  by  raving  over  the  perfections  of  Harry  Bas- 
sett  from  "  morn  till  dewy  eve,"  and  never  telling 
her  that  this  splendid  creature  was  only  a  horse. 

Of  course  Aunt  Prim  would  as  soon  think  of 
reading  what  she  calls  George  Sand's  "  wicJced 
novels,"  as  of  looking  over  the  programme  of  a 
race.  And  as  for  attending  a  race — our  worthy 
aunt  would  expect  to  be  annihilated  upon  the  spot, 
or  at  least  to  be  removed  from  this  happy  world  to 
one  not  quite  so  enjoyable,  should  she  yield  to  her 
curiosity  to  witness  such  iniquity.  But  the  rest  of 
our  party  entertained  no  such  fears,  since  we  found 
the  seats  devoted  to  ladies  upon  the  Grand  Stand  to 
be  covered  with  church  cushions  and  plenty  of 
priests  and  members  of  their  congregations  just  as 
intent  as  we  were  upon  seeing  the  evils  of  horse- 
racing. 

Even  Aunt  Prim  might  have  been  satisfied  to 
have  found  herself  in  such  respectable  society. 


THE    RACES.  187 

As  for  the  immorality  of  betting,  I. am  sorry  to 
say  that  several  ladies  were  provided  with  little 
books  and  pencils,  which  they  kept  in  constant  use, 
and  a  profusion  of  greenbacks  passed  through  their 
white,  jewelled  fingers  during  the  races. 

If  ladies  will  wager  money  upon  a  race,  would  it 
not  be  better  to  settle  the  matter  in  private,  and  not 
to  flaunt  their,  ill-gotten  gains  before  the  public 
gaze? 

We  saw  one  pert  little  Miss,  about  twelve  years 
old,  going  around  among  her  friends  with  a  small 
book  in  her  hand  and  taking  all  the  odds  she  could 
gather  against  Barney  "Williams. 

These  little  bets  seemed  mostly  to  be  entered  as 
kid  gloves,  perfumery,  or  some  such  trifles.  In  the 
course  of  conversation  little  Miss  proved  herself  to 
be  quite  as  much  at  home  in  the  odd  vernacular  of 
the  race-course  as  was  her  papa. 

Really,  it  is  wonderful  to  mark  the  progressive 
spirit  of  the  rising  generation  in  this  age  ! 

The  only  wickedness  worthy  to  be  recorded 
which  Madge  perpetrated  at  the  races  was  that  of 
risking  one  of  her  brown  curls  upon  Harry  Bassett, 
at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  the  Colonel. 

I  did  not  hear  the  Colonel's  wager,  but  I  have  no 
doubt  his  heart  was  at  stake. 


188  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

He  lost,  of  course. 

Harry  Bassett  won  the  Kenner  stakes — and  it 
was  a  splendid  sight  to  see  this  noble  animal  before 
the  race  began,  careering  madly  upon  the  turf,  with 
his  nostrils  expanded,  his  eyes  flashing  fire,  and 
almost  unmanageable  in  the  hands  of  his  rider,  so 
eager  was  he  to  enter  the  contest.  In  fact  he  suc 
ceeded  once  in  his  wild  rearing  and  plunging  to 
send  the  jockey  flying  over  his  head,  but  the  jockey 
was  evidently  used  to  such  playful  tricks  and  did 
not  mind  it. 

Why  don't  they  dress  the  jockeys  in  a  becoming 
manner  ? 

Such  a  grotesque-looking  group  of  black  imps 
arrayed  in  faded  yellow,  green,  or  blue  costumes, 
would  surely  awaken  the  merriment  of  the  specta 
tors  were  they  not  so  much  absorbed  with  interest 
in  the  horses. 

The  third  race — the  summer  handicap — occa 
sioned  considerable  discussion  in  our  little  party. 

We  all  undertook  to  explain  the  term  "handi 
cap." 

Madge  thought  the  horses  probably  wore  "  caps," 
of  coarse  of  the  latest  style  !  Fitz  Hugh  said  they 
passsed  the  cap  around  to  collect  money  when  this 
race  was  over ;  but  the  Colonel,  who  appeared,  after 


THE    KACE8.  189 

all,  to  be  the  most  perfectly  au  fait  in  wickedness, 
finally  explained  the  matter. 

I  am  not  so  sure,  however,  that  we  fully  under 
stand  it  yet. 

The  steeple-chase  which  followed  was  both  novel 
and  exciting.  How  the  horses  went  flying  along 
over  the  green  turf,  leaping  hedges  and  stone  walls 
with  the  speed  of  an  arrow ;  and  clearing  the  pools 
of  water  beyond  the  walls,  without  so  much  as  wet 
ting  their  flying  hoofs.  Every  one  looked  on  in  a 
state  of  breathless  excitement. 

Madge  became  utterly  oblivious  of  the  Colonel. 
Fitz  Hugh  sighed  in  vain,  and  tried  his  best  to 
have  revenge  in  getting  up  a  flirtation  with  the 
lady  who  sat  behind  him. 

Probably,  however,  his  admiration  of  her  bright 
eyes  dropped  to  zero  when  she  exclaimed,  as  a 
jockey  went  flying  over  his  horse's  head: 

"  Dear  me !  is  he  hurted  f  " 

The  way  those  horses  threw  their  riders  as  they 
went  on  their  mad  gallop  over  the  hedges  was 
something  to  be  wondered  at,  as  well  as  the  sudden 
dexterity  with  which  the  jockeys  remounted  and 
rushed  on  to  the  goal. 

But  races  are  cruel  things,  wicked  things,  despite 


190  SPAKKLES    FJROM   SARATOGA. 

the  interest  and  the  excitement  they  never  fail  to 
arouse. 

Think  of  poor  Longfellow,  that  splendid  animal, 
flying  over  the  turf  swift  as  any  bird,  with  his 
proud  carriage  of  head,  with  his  flashing  eyes  so 
full  of  intelligence  and  power — a  horse  that 
ri vailed  in  beauty  and  speed  the  famous  Kochlaui 
breed  of  the  far  East,  descendants  of  King  Solo 
mon's  swiftest  coursers — Longfellow  but  the  day 
before  yesterday  king  of  the  turf,  no  other  daring 
to  dispute  his  well-earned  honors  with  him,  and 
yesterday,  dragging  his  feeble  limbs  from  the 
course,  drooping  his  head  mournfully  as  he  went, 
the  wreck  of  the  beauty  and  strength  he  was  but 
an  hour  before,  driven  to  the  death  for  sordid  gold, 
and  all  to  amuse  a  gaping,  wondering  crowd !  And 
this  is  why  racing  is  so  cruel.  Not  satisfied  with  a 
horse  which  accomplishes  marvels  of  strength  and 
speed,  his  owner  must  test  his  utmost  powers  of  en 
durance,  and  the  poor  brute  is  lashed  to  a  cruel 
death. 

Truly,  who  thinks  of  making  so  much  of  a  mo 
ment  of  time  as  the  owner  of  a  fleet  racer  ? 

It  does  seem  as  though  the  intelligence  of  a  brute 
often  surpassed  that  of  his  master. 

Fifty  thousand  dollars  was  refused  this  week  for 


THE   RACES.  191 

this  superb  Longfellow,  and  to-day  lie  is  worth 
comparatively  nothing. 

The  great  four-mile  dash  between  Longfellow 
and  Helmbold  was  the  most  exciting  race  of  the 
season,  having  been  long  talked  of,  and  thou 
sands  of  people  were  upon  the  ground  to  witness 
it. 

In  the  first  three  miles  around  Longfellow  kept 
ahead  of  his  rival,  with  his  magnificent  strides, 
which  seemed  to  spurn  the  brown  earth ;  but  on  the 
last  mile  his  endurance  gave  way,  and  Helmbold 
easily  passed  him,  and  reached  the  goal  amid  a  burst 
of  overwhelming  cheers. 

Hundreds  of  caps  went  flying  up  in  the  air,  and 
the  little  darkies — who  were  as  thick  as  blackber 
ries  in  July,  and  who  sat  perched  like  so  many 
"  blackbirds  all  in  a  row  "  upon  the  white  fences — 
leaped  from  their  position  as  the  horses  came 
round  upon  the  home  stretch,  and  went  rolling 
over  and  over  011  the  grass  in  an  extravagance 
of  joy. 

I  have  no  patience  with  beautiful  Maude,  who 
sat  near  us  at  the  races.  She  was  so  engrossed  with 
the  soft  words  and  tender  glances  of  young  Limber- 
flap,  that  she  failed  altogether  to  catch  the  spirit  of 
the  hour,  and  the  horses  might  have  had  wings  like 


192  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

Pegasus,  and  their  riders  have  been  dressed  in  the 
hues  of  the  rainbow,  without  absorbing  Miss 
Maude  to  the  degree  of  forgetfulness  of  her  new 
lover. 

We  drove  back  from  the  race-course  over  Lake 
Avenue,  which  has  been  so  graphically  described  as 
the  avenue  with  "three  elegant  rows  of  shade 
trees."  "We  saw  those  trees — barren  sticks  about 
ten  feet  high,  with  a  little  bunch  of  leaves  on  their 
tops,  with  not  enough  verdure  to  shelter  a  bird,  and 
witli  a  possible  shade  ten  years  off. 

Yet  over  this  smooth,  wide  road,  there  is  a  con 
stant  rolling  of  elegant  equipages ;  and  what  would 
become  of  the  display  of  costly  toilettes  if  there 
were  too  many  trees  ? 

For  a  truly  delightful  drive  give  me  some  narrow 
winding  road  where  the  tall  forest  trees  cast  dark 
shadows  over  the  wray,  imparting  a  dim,  mysterious 
look  to  the  depths  beyond  them,  and  with  little 
glimpses  of  running  brooks  flashing  back  the  few 
sunbeams  they  catch  between  the  thick  foliage. 

Then  the  birds  flitting  from  bough  to  bough, 
twittering  their  love-songs  with  no  fear  of  listeners, 
and  the  bright-eyed  squirrels  peeping  out  upon  you 
from  the  roadside,  as  if  in  wonder  that  intruders 
should  venture  so  near  their  haunts. 


XXVIII. 

PLYING   THE    NEEDLE. 

NOTING  the  remarkable  efforts  of  Miss  Industry 
upon  the  piazza  after  dinner,  as  she  weaves  bright 
colors  upon  the  canvas  with  her  needle,  reminds 
me  that  when  I  was  a  "  wee  bit  of  a  girl,"  in  short 
frocks  and  pinafores,  Aunt  Prim  exerted  her  best 
endeavors,  and  I  have  no  doubt  tried  her  patience 
to  the  utmost,  in  teaching  me  to  sew.  It  was  a  tire 
some  task,  I  remember  well,  for  hemming  hand 
kerchiefs  and  darning  stockings  always  failed  to 
awaken  my  childish  enthusiasm. 

It  was  so  much  easier  and  pleasanter  to  ramble 
through  bushes  and  briars,  and  clamber  over  fences, 
to  the  serious  detriment  of  aprons  and  dresses,  than 
it  was  to  do  penance  afterward  by  having  to  mend 
them. 

It  was  one  of  Aunt  Prim's  favorite  theories  that 
no  girl  was  fit  to  get  married  who  could  not  darn  a 
stocking  neatly  ;  and  so,  as  I  was  expected  to  grow 
up  and  attain  the  old-fashioned  goal  of  womanly 


194  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

ambition — to  be  married — I  was  early  initiated  into 
the  mysterious  art  of  darning. 

But  this  employment  merited  and  awakened  my 
everlasting  disgust  when  the  committee  of  a  county 
fair,  having  offered  a  prize  for  the  best  specimen  of 
needle-work  to  be  displayed  in  a  pair  of  darned 
stockings,  and  these  to  be  done  by  an  unmarried 
lady,  I  timidly  sent  in  my  specimen,  which  every 
body  declared  was  "  beautifully  done,"  and  I  nattered 
myself  that  I  was  sure  to  obtain  the  prize,  when  lo ! 
an  officious  old  maid — fifty  years  old — nourished 
her  mended  hose  triumphantly  before  that  com 
mittee  and  bore  away  the  prize. 

I  never  could  discover  the  justice  of  this  decision 
— for  if  that  woman  did  happen  to  be  unmarried, 
I'm  sure  she  was  old  enough  to  have  been  married 
long  before. 

I  cannot  forget  that  while  acquiring  the  art  of  the 
needle,  I  often  felt  inclined  to  wish  all  the  men  who 
made  needles  were  enjoying  themselves  together  at 
the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea. 

How  the  thread  would  snarl,  the  seams  would 
pucker,  and  how  1,  losing  all  patience,  would  com 
mence  to  cry,  and  the  tears,  blinding  my  eyes,  would 
thrust  the  sharp  needle  into  my  little  fingers  instead 
of  into  the  wayward  muslin. 


PLYING    THE   NEEDLE.  195 

And  there  was  Aunt  Prim,  always  enjoining  upon 
me  :  "  Sophie,  my  child,  be  sure  to  fasten  the  threads 
well,  and  to  hide  the  Jmot." 

And  then,  with  a  skilful  turn  of  the  needle,  she 
would  thrust  the  ugly  knot  under  the  delicate  henij 
and  all  would  appear  smooth  and  neat.  I  wondered 
how  she  did  it,  for  I  never  could  do  it  in  those  days. 

The  days  of  hand-sewing,  thank  Heaven,  are 
almost  over.  No  longer  shall  woman  be  enslaved 
to  that  cruel  little  despot,  the  needle — that  miserable 
tyrant,  which  stitched,  and  stitched  her  very  soul 
out  of  Paradise! 

Now,  the  sewing-machine,  that  dearest  of  modern 
Penates,  which  "  has  never  a  soul  to  save,"  does  the 
tiresome  work  of  the  needle ;  and,  arguing  from 
the  constant  inventions  intended  to  dispense  with 
human  labor,  by  and  by  we  shall  have  nothing  to 
do  with  ruffles  and  tucks,  except  to  wear  them. 
Those  days,  I  think,  will  be  the  dawning  of  the 
millennium — at  least  to  womankind. 

But,  though  no  longer  I  sit  beside  Aunt  Prim 
learning  to  "hide  the  knot,"  there  are  still  knots  to 
be  hidden  and  threads  to  be  fastened  well. 

What  is  a  besetting  sin  but  a  knot,  which  requires 
to  be  concealed  and  smoothed  away  from  our  lives  ? 

What   is   the   first  footstep   toward   evil,  but   a 


196  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

loosened  thread^  which,  unless  carefully  secured, 
will  rip  and  ravel  until  all  is  lost  ? 

Envy,  pride,  malice,  and  a  thousand  other  sins  of 
petty  magnitude,  are  all  knots  in  human  nature — 
the  snags  which  roughen  the  otherwise  smooth 
current  of  life. 

There  is  Nettie  Hay,  who  is  one  of  the  loveliest 
girls  to  be  met.  Her  eyes  are  as  radiant  as  two 
stars ;  her  dear  little  head  is  "  all  running  over  with 
curls,"  and  the  lily  and  the  rose  are  blended  in  her 
complexion;  the  dimples  play  at  hide  and  seek 
around  her  dainty  little  mouth  when  she  smiles — and 
Nettie  Ray  smiles  often,  but  not  always.  There  is, 
alas!  an  ugly  knot  in  Nettie's  character  which  it 
would  be  well  if  she  could  forever  hide. 

She  has  an  unhappy  way  of  allowing  her  temper 
to. "run  away  with  her;"  of  letting  the  fire  of 
angry  passion  burn  until  it  consumes  all  the  sweet 
buds  of  love  and  affection  which  cluster  around  her. 
And  when  the  tempest  of  anger  has  sway  over  her, 
Nettie  Ray  is  lovely  no  longer. 

Perhaps  she  had  no  Aunt  Prim  when  she  was  a 
child,  to  teach  her  how  to  hide  the  knot. 

And  there  is  old  Father  Mildew.  He  has  the 
blandest  temper  in  the  world,  but  he  is  the  most 
penurious  old  man  who  ever  begrudged  taking  a 


PLYING    THE   NEEDLE.  197 

step  because  it  wore  out  shoe  leather.  For  him  there 
is  no  joy  so  sweet  as  counting  his  gold. 

He  views  the  ever-increasing  pile  with  exquisite 
delight,  and  his  long,  thin  fingers  tremble  with 
eagerness  as  he  places  coin  upon  coin  and  note  upon 
note.  Father  Mildew  is  a  faithful  attendant  at  church, 
and  regards  the  unrighteous  ones  of  this  world  with 
holy  horror. 

He  is  a  devotee,  it  is  true,  but  to  all  outward  ap 
pearance  his  god  is  Mammon.  Christian  though  he 
flatters  himself  to  be,  Father  Mildew  would  proba 
bly  experience  a  keen  pang  of  regret  if  required  to 
leave  this  world  for  the  untold  joys  of  heaven,  since 
he  could  not  carry  his  treasure  with  him.  Poor  old 
man !  He  fancies  that  the  world  is  blind  to  his 
avariciousness.  But  it  is  every  day  displayed ;  dis 
played  by  his  poor  wife  and  daughters,  who  go  so 
shabbily  dressed,  and  who  are  obliged  to  eke  out 
their  existence  with  the  utmost  economy.  His  chil 
dren,  who,  after  all,  must  some  day  inherit  all  his 
wealth,  are  scantily  fed,  scantily  dressed,  and  scantily 
educated. 

The  rich  mines  of  learning,  the  treasures  of  art, 
the  paths  of  culture  which  lead  to  eminence  or  fame 
are  closed  to  them,  since  their  father's  griping  hand 


198  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

withholds  the  gold  which  might  enrich  their  minds 
and  hearts. 

No  concerts, no  lectures,  no  delightful  wanderings 
through  galleries  of  art  for  those  young  people. 

No  piano  in  the  house,  no  painting,  scarcely  an 
engraving — and,  as  for  books,  Father  Mildew  was 
never  known  to  purchase  anything  in  that  line  ex 
cept  a  ledger. 

The  daily  life  of  such  a  family  is  necessarily  cold 
and  hard,  and,  instead  of  experiencing  the  loving 
care  of  a  generous  father,  Father  Mildew's  children 
are  taught  that  they  should  be  thankful  for  their 
bread  and  butter,  and  expect  nothing  more. 

And  so,  while  the  family  are  starving  soul  and 
body,  the  pile  of  gold  increases.  But  every  day 
lessens  the  short  distance  between  that  old  man  a,nd 
the  grave.  Father  Mildew  must  relinquish  his 
treasure  at  last  and  go  the  way  of  all  mankind. 

The  probability  of  such  an  event  has,  it  would 
seem,  occurred  to  his  mind,  since  it  is  really  true 
that  in  a  dark  corner  of  his  house  lies  the  coffin 
which  he  purchased  for  himself,  and  which,  so  says 
the  world,  he  purchased  after  long  haggling  and 
parleying,  for  fifty  cents  less  than  the  price,  be 
cause  it  had  a  crack  in  it. 

It  will  readily  be  supposed,  that  after  he  is  gone, 


PLYING   THE   NEEDLE.  199 

his  children — who  have  never  been  taught  to  con 
trol  money — will  forget  everything  but  the  new 
found  pleasure  of  spending  it,  and  so  the  carefully 
hoarded  savings  will  after  all  be  wasted. 

Had  old  Father  Mildew  been  more  liberal ;  had 
he  shown  his  children  that  there  is  more  virtue  in 
spending  wisely  than  in  hoarding  foolishly,  had  they 
received  the  advantages  which  he  was  fully  able  to 
give  them,  then — as  Aunt  Prim  would  say — "  the 
threads  would  have  been  fastened  well,"  and  his 
wealth  would  not  be  squandered,  like  stitches  which 
drop,  one  after  another,  until  all  are  gone. 

The  very  opposite  of  the  vice  of  avarice,  as  ex 
hibited  in  meagreness  of  life  and  closeness  of  purse, 
is  the  inordinate  love  of  display  evinced  by  some 
people. 

With  them  every  dollar  is  spread  out  in  ar.  al 
most  marvellous  way,  until  the  absurd  wrorld  allows 
itself  to  be  really  dazzled  by  what  is,  after  all,  but 
the  thinnest  spreading  of  gold  over  a  mass  of  empti 
ness  and  deceit ! 

What  useless  heart-burnings — what  little  jealousies 
and  rankling  sorrows,  sting  like  venomous  serpents 
in  this  vain  strife  of  folly. 

The  truest  happiness  is  the  most  unselfish.  An 
unselfish  action  never  fails  to  bring  more  pleasure 


200  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

than  one  which  springs  from  a  selfish  motive.  A 
good  deed  is  a  pebble  thrown  into  the  stream  of  life. 
The  pebble  cast  into  the  stream  causes  the  eddying 
waves  to  form  a  circle  which  widens  and  widens 
until  it  is  lost  in  the  vast  deeps  of  the  ocean. 

So  the  good  deed  extends  its  influence  through 
the  world  in  a  circle  which  forever  increases  until  it 
touches  the  shores  of  the  Infinite,  and  there  receives 
its  reward. 

The  sum  of  life  is  made  up  of  little  things.  It  is 
the  petty  sins,  rather  than  great  crimes,  which  cause 
the  greater  portion  of  the  world's  unhappiness. 
The  everyday  follies  which  need  to  be  overcome, 
the  little  knots  which  ruffle  our  tempers,  are  those 
which  embitter  our  lives.  If  these  could  be  con 
quered,  and  laid  away  out  of  sight  forever,  what  a 
comfortable  world  this  would  be  to  live  in ! 


XXIX. 

HINTS    TO    HUSBANDS. 

IT  is  always  amusing  to  hear  the  sage  philoso 
phers  among  those  who  style  themselves  the  "  lords 
of  creation,"  prate  about  the  quiet  life  of  woman! 

I  should  like  any  one  of  them  to  take  his  book, 
his  pen,  or  his  ledger,  and  seat  himself  for  one  hour 
in  the  nursery  ! 

I  should  like  to  have  a  carte  de  msite  of  the  man 
who  would  patiently  endure  to  be  shut  up  for  one 
whole  day  in  a  room  with  five  or  six  healthy,  active, 
romping  children. 

That  picture  should  have  a  most  honored  place  in 
my  album ! 

You  may  talk  of  the  bustle  of  business,  of  the 
noise  of  the  outer  world,  and  the  quiet  precincts  of 
home,  but  I  have  never  yet  listened  to  a  racket 
which  could  compare  with  the  shouting,  laughing, 
wrangling,  and  screaming  of  half  a  dozen  children 
shut  up  in  that  fabled  quiet  home. 

There  is   the  incessant  pattering  of  little  feet; 

the  clashing  and  clattering  of  dilapidated  toys ;  the 
9* 


202  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

creaking  of  chairs  as  they  perform  the  various 
duties  of  both  horses  and  cars;  the  upsetting  of 
tables ;  the  tearing  of  clothes  and  the  bursting  of 
buttons;  the  loud  lamentations  over  bumped  heads 
and  injured  noses;  and,  chiming  in  with  all  this, 
are  the  fearful  cries  or  endless  wailing  of  "  the 
baby  "  who  is  teething ! 

And  over  this  modern  Bedlam  usually  presides 
some  patient,  weary  mother,  whose  unstrung  nerves 
and  throbbing  head  betoken  anything  but  a  quiet 
life. 

Now,  any  man  who  would  endure  this  overpow 
ering  din,  this  woman's  quiet,  during  the  short  time 
of  one  revolution  of  the  earth  upon  its  axis,  and 
preserve  his  serenity  of  mind  undisturbed,  ought  to 
receive  a  gold  medal,  and  to  be  held  up  forever  as 
a  model  for  all  husbands  and  fathers  to  imitate. 

And  yet  nearly  every  mother  of  a  family  who 
has  children  to  be  proud  of — for  all  bright,  healthy 
children  are  sure  to  be  boisterous — is  obliged  to  en 
dure  this  noise  and  confusion  every  day,  while  no 
one  thinks  of  rewarding  her  for  enduring  it  patiently ! 

If  the  burden  becomes  intolerable,  and  she  frets, 
or  loses  her  temper,  the  poor  woman  is  said  to  be 
cross,  or  a  scold. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  perhaps,  that  men 


HINTS   TO    HUSBANDS.  203 

are  inclined  to  picture  home  as  a  quiet  place. 
After  the  business  of  the  day  is  over,  the  pater 
familias  seeks  his  fireside.  The  roguish  little  ones 
who  from  dawn  to  nightfall  have  been  the  very  em 
bodiment  of  perpetual  motion,  are  at  last  tired  of 
play,  and  one  by  one  drop  off  into  slumber.  Even 
the  baby,  having  exhausted  himself  with  fretful- 
ness,  shuts  his  eyes  for  a  short  nap,  wherewith  to 
recruit  the  strength  of  his  lungs  for  the  next  waking 
hours. 

The  mother  sits  quietly  mending  the  torn  little 
garments  which  the  sleepers  have  cast  off,  and  the 
father  looks  over  his  evening  paper,  or  smokes  his 
cigar,  in  blissful  repose  before  the  cheerful  fire. 

No  wonder  the  father  fancies  that  home  is  a  quiet 
place ! 

But  there  must  be  daylight  as  well  as  gaslight 
for  viewing  impartially  the  scenes  around  the  do 
mestic  hearth. 

Surely  woman  needs  no  reproaches  for  wishing 
to  enlarge  her  sphere. 

I  think  it  would  do  no  harm  if  every  wife  who 
has  been  making  an  angel  of  herself  for  an  indefi 
nite  period  of  time  ;  who  has  been  an  all-enduring, 
long-suffering,  devoted  martyr  to  her  husband's 
caprices,  should  change  her  tactics  for  a  time. 


204  SPAKKLES   FKOM    SARATOGA. 

Not  but  that  all  wives  should  endeavor  to  be  good 
wives,  but  then  husbands  are  so  apt  to  "  entertain 
angels  unawares ! "  They  should  be  allowed  to 
perceive  the  difference  between  home  with  the 
angel  and  home  without  her,  lest  they  neglect  to 
duly  appreciate  the  divinity  of  the  household. 

Now,  husbands  think  nothing  of  taking  them 
selves  off  for  a  few  days,  or  even  longer,  by  way  of 
recreation  and  amusement,  and  it  passes  my  com 
prehension  entirely,  why  a  wife  should  be  always 
expected  to  stay  at  home,  tied  to  the  self -same  spot 
forever  by  invisible  chains  which  are  as  binding  as 
were  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 

Why  should  the  wife  and  mother  go  about  from 
day  to  day,  bearing  always  her  burden  of  toil  and 
care,  and  never  laying  it  aside  3 

Why  should  she  not  have  the  liberty  to  escape 
from  thraldom  once  in  a  while  as  well  as  her  hus 
band  ? 

This  is  a  good  thing  to  contemplate,  ye  fathers 
and  husbands  who  are  already  planning  your  little 
summer  vacations. 

Don't  go  away  and  leave  your  wives  at  home ! 

If  you  are  a  man  of  laborious  pursuits,  you  may 
need  rest  and  relief  from  care,  but  your  wife  needs 
it  also. 


HINTS   TO    HUSBANDS.  205 

The  fresh  air  of  the  country,  the  relaxation  from 
toil,  or  the  gayety  of  the  watering-place,  which  in 
spires  you  with  new  life  and  new  hope,  will  also 
bring  back  the  roses  to  your  wife's  pale  cheek,  and 
the  old  gleam  of  lovelight  to  her  eyes. 

Don't  go  away  selfishly  to  enjoy  yourself,  and 
leave  your  wife  fretting  and  toiling  at  home. 

"All  work  and  no  play,  makes  Jack  a  dull 
boy." 

This  is  an  old  maxim  and  a  true  one.  Yet  how 
plainly  it  shows  upon  the  face  of  it  that  it  was  first 
written  by  some  selfish  specimen  of  the  genus 
man  !  Not  one  word  is  said  of  "  Jack's  "  mother, 
sister,  or  wife.  As  if  "  Jack  "  were  the  only  person 
of  sufficient  importance  to  be  considered,  and  as  if 
Susie  or  Mollie  were  not  quite  as  likely  to  be  made 
"  dull  "  by  overwork,  as  "  Jack  "  ! 

But  the  world  was  not  made  solely  for  "  Jack's  " 
amusement  and  comfort,  and  it  is  quite  time  he 
knew  it. 

Suppose  the  mistress  of  the  family  should  take  it 
into  her  head  to  follow  the  example  of  her  husband, 
and  leave  home  for  a  two  or  three  days'  visit  ?  She 
upsets  the  house  for  a  general  sweeping  or  cleaning, 
and  then  forgets  to  readjust  it ! 

She  leaves  the  baby  in  the  cradle  with  full  liberty 


206          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

to  develop  his  lungs,  according  to  the  baby's  pet 
method  of  performing  that  process ! 

She  gives  the  elder  children  plenty  of  bread  and 
syrup  with  which  to  appease  their  appetites  ;  puts 
on  the  dinner  pot,  but  neglects  the  fire ;  and  disap 
pears  a  couple  of  hours  before  papa's  return. 

Would  not  there  be  a  funny  scene  when  that  dear 
man  comes  home  ? 

"  My  dears,"  he  would  say  to  the  molasses-orna 
mented  cherubs  of  his  hearth,  "  where  is  your  ma  ? " 

"  Dawn  for  a  wisit !  "  lisps  two-year  old. 

"  Indeed  ! "  says  papa,  wonderingly. 

"  I  want  my  dinner !  "  clamors  the  eldest. 

"  My  hands  all  'ticky  ! "  says  two-year  old,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  clean  the  little  fingers  On  his  pin 
afore,  to  the  decided  embellishment  of  that  gar 
ment. 

"  Aa — aa — aa !  Boo — oo — oo ! "  shrieks  the  baby 
in  the  cradle. 

Papa  picks  up  the  baby  with  a  despairing  look 
upon  his  face,  and  looks  into  the  dinner  pot. 

Everything  placid  there !  No  water  bubbling  and 
sputtering  because  it  is  required  to  boil ! 

Papa  remembers  the  old  adage  which  says :  u  A 
watched  pot  never  boils  ;  "  and  replacing  the  cover, 
he  looks  into  the  stove. 


HINTS    TO    HUSBANDS.  207 

Everything  quiet  there  also.  Not  the  slightest  trace 
of  red-hot,  angry  coals.  Mamma  did  not  mean  that 
the  children  should  burn  themselves  on  that  stove. 

Papa  next  goes  into  the  larder,  carrying  the  baby, 
and  followed  by  the  other  juveniles,  and  inspired 
with  the  fond  hope  of  finding  some  delicious  bits 
there  in  the  shape  of  "  cold  victuals  !  " 

Not  a  pie — nor  cake — not  even  a  cold  potato 
meets  his  expectant  gaze ! 

And  then  this  much-injured,  aggrieved  man  be 
takes  himself  back  to  his  desolate  hearth,  followed 
by  all  the  syrup-sweetened  cherubs — and  longing 
for  the  return  of  her  who  alone  can  bring  order  to 
this  chaotic  home. 

He  fully  realizes  the  discomforts  of  "  home  with 
out  a  mother ! " 

There  is  a  painful  void  in  the  wonted  place  of 
that  sweet  feminine  magician,  who  always  manages 
to  have  everything  so  cosey  and  comfortable,  and 
who  casts  over  all  the  halo  of  her  own  sunny  pres 
ence.  Yet,  somehow  or  other,  she  is  seldom  appre 
ciated  until  she  disappears  from  the  fireside — when 
presto  !  how  great  the  change  1 

This  state  of  affairs  might  seem  rather  hard  at 
first  sight,  but  then  it  is  a  pity  not  to  give  husbands 
the  opportunity  of  being  angelic  once  in  a  while ! 


208  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

Wliat  husband  ever  thinks  of  asking  his  wife  if  he 
can  leave  home?  And  why  should  not  the  wife 
have  the  same  liberty  ?  It  would  afford  such  a  re 
freshing  variety  to  the  hum-drum  monotony  of 
everyday  life,  to  let  the  wife  break  a  few  of  the 
domestic  jars,  while  the  husband  meekly  picks  up 
the  pieces,  with  only  a  "  Don't,  my  dear !  " 

Husbands  should  learn  to  be  patient  and  lamb 
like  as  well  as  wives. 

The  would-be  rulers  of  this  world  have  appointed 
separate  paths  for  man  and  woman.  The  public 
highway  which  leads  to  wealth  or  fame  is  for  man  ; 
the  cool,  sequestered  vale  for  woman.  Man  is  made 
to  toil  in  the  full  light  of  the  sun ;  woman  to  bloom 
in  the  shade.  Blue  violets  and  golden  buttercups 
are  supposed  to  be  ever  springing  up  under  woman's 
feet,  which  she  has  only  to  stoop  to  gather  in  her 
hand — so  the  poets  say.  But  the  thorns  which  so 
cruelly  pierce  her  feet,  the  bramble-bushes  which 
tear  her  delicate  hands,  and  the  reptiles  which  creep 
through  the  shining  grass,  awaiting  their  opportunity 
to  sting,  are  utterly  ignored. 

Nothing  is  said  of  the  thunder-clouds  which  lower 
over  this  quiet  path  for  woman.  Possibly  it  is  sup 
posed  that  man's  affection  will  afford  a  screen  from 
these. 


HINTS    TO    HUSBANDS.  209 

Bah !  there  is  more  virtue  in  one  good,  blue  cot 
ton  umbrella  for  protection  from  the  storm  than  in 
a  man's  love !  And  more  reliance  is  to  be  placed 
in  it,  too. 

Women  are  continually  warned  not  to  leave  their 
own  peculiar  walk  in  life  for  the  rough  pathway  of 
man. 

But  if  the  public  highway  be  paved  with  stones, 
men  certainly  have  amused  themselves  with  the 
boyish  pastime  of  pitching  them,  since  they  have 
fallen  most  plentifully  along  the  green,  quiet  path 
for  woman! 

If  men  would  only  desist  from  this  destructive 
and  perilous  amusement,  and  no  longer  ruthlessly 
crush  the  violets  and  buttercups  that  spring  up 
around  a  woman's  feet  with  rough  cobble  stones, 
the  Garden  of  Eden  might  bloom  again,  and  woman 
have  no  need  to  hurl  back  the  pebbles  at  her  assail 
ants  and  cry  out  for  the  protection  of  her  violets  and 
buttercups ! 

There  are  few  women,  I  may  venture  to  say,  but 
would  willingly  choose  the  sphere  of  a  quiet  home 
to  that  of  any  other ;  few  but  would  prefer  the  green, 
sequestered  vale  of  life,  if  through  it  lay  the  paths 
of  love  and  pleasantness  and  peace ! 


XXX. 

ALL   ABOUT   BONNETS. 

IF  any  one  for  a  moment  supposes  that  a  lady's 
bonnet  lias  nothing  to  do  with  the  progression  of 
the  age,  or  that  its  tiny  weight  can  have  no  possible 
bearing  upon  the  great  questions  of  the  day,  that 
person  is  very  much  mistaken. 

Women  need  ask  no  better  signal  of  their  coming 
release  from  thraldom  than  that  displayed  by  the 
modern  "love  of  a  bonnet."  Every  rose-bud  that 
nestles  above  beauty's  fair  brow ;  every  ribbon  that 
flutters  in  the  breeze,  is  the  herald  of  approaching 
victory. 

To  prove  all  this,  and  to  refute  the  wiseacres  who 
aver  that  the  present  is  by  no  means  equal  to  the 
past,  I  have  only  to  bring  to  mind  that  revolu 
tionary  relic  of  my  sainted  great-grandmother, 
which  lies  at  home  in  a  neglected  corner,  with  the 
dust  of  a  century  upon  its  expansive  brim  and 
faded  flowers,  and  to  flourish  triumphantly  beside  it 
my  last  new  bonnet. 

This  bonnet  of  mine,  it  is  true,  is  not  much  to 


ALL    ABOUT   BONNETS.  211 

speak  of  in  the  way  of  size ;  only  a  red  rose  peeping 
out  from  a  bit  of  lace,  a  scrap  of  velvet,  and  two 
long  fluttering  blue  ribbons,  just  to  give  the  whole 
an  air  of  reality — that  is  all. 

There  are  people  who  spend  their  precious  time 
in  lamenting  the  past,  while  they  utterly  ignore  the 
blessings  of  the  present. 

But  to  me,  this  jaunty  little  hat,  fresh  from  the 
hands  of  the  milliner,  is  an  inestimable  joy  when 
compared  to  the  bonnet  of  my  earliest  recollections. 

The  bonnet  of  my  childhood  ! 

All,  if  there  be  lurking  in  my  gentle  heart  one 
atom  of  implacable  animosity,  it  is  against  that 
bonnet. 

How  I  wish  that  I  could  instantaneously  photo 
graph  upon  the  "  mind's  eye  "  of  the  reader  my  re 
markable  personal  appearance  as  I  appeared  in  the 
head-gear  of  that  period. 

That  is,  the  bonnet  appeared,  but  as  for  myself, 
the  only  clue  to  my  identity  was  to  be  found  in  a 
pair  of  small  shoes,  a  ruffle  or  two,  and  the  hem  of 
an  apron. 

I  was  completely  enveloped  in  the  embrace  of  my 
direst  foe — a  foe  hated  as  profoundly  as  the 
memory  of  Bluebeard,  and  dreaded  almost  as  much 
an  the  terrible  bears,  which  I  firmly  believed  were 


212          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

lurking  in  unseen  places,  ready  at  any  moment  to 
spring  out  and  devour  naughty  little  girls. 

That  bonnet  stood  between  me  and  heaven ;  for 
what  glimpses  could  I  catch  of  the  bright  blue  sky 
above  when  lost  in  its  bewildering  depths  ? 

It  also  initiated  me  in  the  wicked  art  of  decep 
tion  by  leading  into  irresistible  temptation,  for  the 
instant  I  escaped  far  enough  from  home  to  avoid 
the  ever- watchful  maternal  eye,  that  bonnet  came 
suddenly  off  from  my  head,  and  had  it  been  gifted 
with  speech  it  might  have  complained  loudly  of 
violence. 

But  the  half  of  my  tribulations  would  fail  to  be 
realized  did  I  omit  to  describe  this  distasteful  affair. 

It  was  made  of  strips  of  pasteboard  about  a  foot 
in  length,  which  were  so  arranged  as  to  project  over 
the  face.  These  were  covered  with  blue  lawn,  and 
a  huge  ruffle  was  added  to  the  front  by  way  of  im 
parting  an  artistic  finish.  A  long  cape  was 
attached  to  protect  my  neck  and  arms  from  the 
fervor  of  the  sun. 

People  in  those  days  had  evidently  no  faith  in  the 
sun-cure. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  give  the  exact  length  of 
that  bonnet-cape,  for  "  still  the  wonder  grew ; " 
since,  for  every  inch  added  to  my  stature,  my 


ALL   ABOUT   BONNETS.  213 

mother  added  an  inch  to  that  cape,  so  that  I  seemed 
destined  never  to  escape  from  its  tyranny. 

Howl  envied  my  brother  Fred  the  jaunty  little 
cap  which  rested  so  lightly  on  his  golden  curls. 

If  anything  chanced  to  awaken  his  boyish  enthu 
siasm,  it  was  but  the  work  of  an  instant  to  snatch 
that  cap  from  his  head  and  to  send  it  far  up  into 
the  air,  as  he  shouted  "hurrah!  hurrah!"  If  I 
attempted  to  follow  his  example,  even  though  I  was 
successful  in  untying  a  perplexing  pair  of  strings 
firmly  fastened  under  my  chin,  I  was  doomed  to  dis 
appointment,  for  that  pasteboard  iniquity  always 
refused  to  soar. 

It  needed  nothing  more  than  the  sight  of  Fred's 
cap  careering  in  the  air  to  early  instil  into  my 
mind  a  keen  sense  of  the  inequality  between  the 
sexes,  and  of  the  cruel  wrongs  we  poor  feminines 
had  to  endure. 

The  very  fact  that  Fred  would  have  scouted  the 
idea  of  appearing  in  a  girl's  bonnet  was  enough  to 
condemn  it.  I  have  seen  a  boy  baby  of  less  than 
two  years  rebel  furiously  at  having  a  sun-bonnet 
tied  under  his  dimpled  chin  by  his  anxious  mamma. 

But  I  never  saw  an  embryo  belle  behave  in  like 
manner.  Little  girls  usually  accept  their  fate  with 
the  most  commendable  meekness. 


214          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

Why  shouldn't  Fred  be  compelled  to  grope  his 
way  about  the  garden,  over  high  fences,  and  to 
climb  trees  in  a  huge  sun-bonnet  as  well  as  I  ? 

For  over  fences  and  up  the  trees  I  followed  Fred, 
at  the  imminent  risk,  however,  of  suddenly  depart 
ing  from  this  world. 

Not  that  I  was  unadapted  by  nature  for  perform 
ing  these  gymnastic  feats  as  well  as  my  brother,  but 
because  I  was  hampered  and  hedged  in  by  a  tire 
some  lot  of  ruffles  and  flounces,  which  were  not  to 
be  torn,  and  my  vision  was  sadly  obscured  by  an  in 
tervening  wall  of  pasteboard. 

The  only  wonder  is  that  I  escaped  being  a  youth 
ful  martyr  to  fashion,  and  reached  the  years  of 
maturity  with  unbroken  limbs. 

Why  I  wore  sun-bonnets  while  Fred  rejoiced  in 
caps  was  a  perplexing  problem  which  I  often  re 
solved  in  my  mind  without  arriving  at  any  satisfac 
tory  conclusion. 

At  last  the  matter  was  made  plain  to  me.  I  dis 
covered  that  it  was  my  mother's  especial  solicitude 
that  my  complexion  should  be  untouched  by  the 
sun  or  the  wind. 

If  the  sun  kissed  Fred's  rosy  cheeks  with  ardor, 
it  only  added  to  his  beauty,  and  it  was  remarked 
what  a  lovely  color  he  had. 


ALL   ABOUT   BONNETS.  215 

But  as  for  poor  me,  what  greater  misfortune  could 
happen  to  a  girl  than  to  be  browned  and  freckled  by 
the  sun  ? 

Nut-brown  maids  were  not  at  all  in  favor  with 
those  who  had  the  care  of  my  childhood,  and  so  I 
was  compelled  to  grope  my  melancholy  way  out  of 
doors,  almost  hidden  from  the  light — that  some  day, 
far  off  in  the  future,  somebody  else's  "brother 
Fred  "  might  find  me  as  fair  as  a  lily,  with  a  com 
plexion  of  roses  and  cream,  and  so  surrender  his 
heart  at  once. 

But  as  I  had  no  ambition  in  those  days  for  the 
future  conquests  I  was  intended  to  make,  and  had 
not  the  slightest  desire  to  rival  the  lily  or  the  snow 
in  whiteness,  was  it  any  wonder  that  I  sometimes 
rebelled  ? 

The  pasteboard  sun-bonnet  was  doleful  enough 
in  a  fresh  state,  but  it  reached  its  climax  of  horrors 
when  the  paper  lost  its  stiffness,  and  every  adverse 
wind  flapped  it  defiantly  in  my  face. 

At  last  I  positively  refused  to  submit  to  this  in 
quisition  any  longer,  and  as  I  remained  firm,  fashion 
had  to  change. 

The  next  contrivance  which  was  devised  to  keep 
me  in  durance  vile  by  debarring  my  eyes  from  all 


216  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

but  slight  glimpses  of  either  heaven  or  earth,  was  a 
gingham  bonnet  gathered  over  large  cords. 

This  also  was  finished  around  the  front  with  a 
ruffle,  and  displayed  the  inevitable  cape. 

The  experience  of  later  years  has  often  led  me  to 
wonder  if  ruffles  had  not  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the 
insipidity  of  women — a  man's  attire  is  so  plain, 
while  a  woman's  garment  is  covered  with  superflu 
ous  nonsense.  While  so  much  adornment  is  lav 
ished  upon  the  outer  self,  it  would  not  be  strange  if 
the  intelligence  was  sometimes  sadly  neglected. 

Having  received  the  last  touch  of  the  needle, 
this  new  miracle  of  womanly  skill  was  starched  to 
its  utmost  capacity  and  ironed  in  the  laundress'  very 
best  style. 

With  this  affair  securely  tied  upon  my  rebellious 
head,  I  set  forth  for  a  ramble  with  Fred. 

Alas !  and  alas !  The  four  winds  of  heaven 
seemed  to  have  broken  loose  for  the  especial  purpose 
of  howling  inside  of  that  bonnet. 

How  they  whistled  and  shrieked  in  their  shrillest 
tones  about  my  ears,  inside  of  that  terrible  bonnet, 
which  creaked  and  rattled  in  response  as  if  with  the 
wildest  joy ! 

I  took  it  off  and  viewed  it  with  a  new  dismay. 

I  tried  to  persuade  Fred  to  change  his  old  cap  for 


ALL    ABOUT   BONNETS.  217 

my  new  bonnet ;  but,  of  course,  Fred  wouldn't. 
In  fact,  I  never  could  discover  in  Fred  the  slightest 
desire  to  possess  a  bonnet,  although  I  often  sounded 
him  upon  the  subject. 

With  a  feeling  that  bordered  upon  the  sublimity 
of  despair,  I  replaced  the  hateful  covering  upon  my 
head.  And,  while  I  stood  irresolute  as  to  the  first 
defensive  step  I  should  take  in  regard  to  this  new 
grievance,  a  kindly  gust  of  wind  carried  the  bonnet 
off  from  my  head  and  left  it  in  the  middle  of  a  tub- 
full  of  water. 

JSTo  one  could  ever  shake  my  belief  in  providential 
interferences  after  that. 

How  the  pride  and  stiff  pomposity  of  that  bit 
of  gingham  suddenly  collapsed  in  the  water, 
until  it  became  a  limp,  flimsy  rag  which  nobody 
had  need  to  fear.  The  poor  thing  was  evidently  out 
of  its  element. 

I  rubbed  my  hands  with  childish  glee  at  this 
mishap,  and  actually  borrowed  Fred's  cap  to  toss  in 
the  air,  the  better  to  express  my  joy  at  the  end  of 
this  new  trouble. 

But  the  end  was  not  yet  come,  for  lo !  upon  the 
morrow,  the  bonnet,  having  undergone  some  mys 
terious  process  in  the  kitchen,  reappeared  "  as  good 


10 


218          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

Its  first  exploit  in  the  water,  however,  did  not 
escape  my  mind,  and  one  day  when  I  went  fishing 
with  Fred,  somehow — accidentally,  of  course — that 
bonnet  fell  into  the  stream  and  floated  beyond  our 
reach  out  towards  the  sea.  I  have  often  reflected 
upon  its  ultimate  fate,  since  it  seemed  destined  to 
have  a  career.  And,  being  of  a  poetic  turn  of 
mind,  I  composed  a  sonnet  upon  the  occasion,  which 
suggested  that  my  persecutor  had  been  snatched  up 
as  a  prize  by  some  luckless  mermaid.  I  only  hope 
it  did  not  break  her  heart ! 

I  also  wrote  a  lament  for  its  departure,  prompted 
by  the  same  spirit  of  grief  which  impels  people 
sometimes  to  express  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  a  friend 
whom  they  would  by  no  means  bring  back  to  this 
world. 

The  only  advantage  I  ever  could  discover  in  the 
old-fashioned  sun-bonnet  was,  that  if  any  presump 
tuous  schoolboy  ever  felt  tempted  to  give  his  little 
sweetheart  a  kiss,  that  bonnet  most  effectually  op 
posed  him. 

But  I  turn  from  my  own  grievances  to  consider 
the  immense  affair  which  once  shaded  the  sweet 
face  of  my  grandmother  at  eighteen,  and  which 
maintained  its  dignity  under  the  eupnonious  title 
of  "  poke-bonnet." 


ALL    ABOUT   BONNETS.  219 

Imagine,  for  a  moment,  a  bevy  of  Saratoga 
belles  wearing  poke-bonnets!  How  many  times 
have  I  reverently  taken  this  quaint  old  bonnet  down 
from  its  nook  in  the  closet,  and  brushing  away  the 
dust,  viewed  it  with  melancholy  reflection ! 

It  is  made  of  the  finest  Leghorn,  with  a  brim  a 
foot  wide,  shaped  so  as  to  expand  scuttle-fashion 
over  the  face.  This  brim  is  backed  by  a  crown 
which  rises  almost  to  a  peak,  and  is  surmounted 
with  a  bunch  of  faded  flowers.  Upon  the  side  of 
this  odd-looking  crown  there  still  hangs  a  bunch  of 
rumpled  ribbons  of  the  palest  blue. 

Ah,  those  faded  flowers !  How  eloquently  do 
they  speak  of  beauty  perished  long  ago!  Of 
bright  eyes  which  once  glanced  out  from  this  queer 
old  bonnet,  and  of  clustering  cnrls  which  strayed 
beneath  it. 

And  then  the  tattered  ribbons,  with  just  enough 
of  blue  left  in  their  silken  shreds  to  suggest  the 
heaven  of  youth  and  love,  of  hope  and  joy,  which 
once  made  sunshine  in  an  earthly  home,  but  which 
have  passed  long  since  into  that  summer  land,  where 
the  flowers  never  fade,  and  the  sky  is  always  blue. 

There  is  a  world  of  sweet  memories,  of  quaint 
old  fancies,  and  poetic  dreams,  clustering  around 
this  relic  of  the  past.  No  doubt  this  poke-bonnet, 


220  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

which  would  now  awaken  the  risibilities  of  any 
modern  belle,  was  in  its  day  considered  to  be  a 
marvel  of  loveliness,  and  its  wearer  may  have  made 
her  appearance  at  church  in  the  new  bonnet  with 
some  trepidation  of  soul,  and  a  feeling  that  she 
was  making  too  great  a  display  of  finery  for  the 
holy  place. 

But  the  bonnet  was  certainly  able  to  conceal  her 
embarrassment,  and  must  have  interposed  a  formid 
able  obstacle  to  the  ardent  glances  of  admiring 
swains. 

Besides,  it  was  a  great  preservative  to  the  com 
plexion,  and  veils  and  parasols  could  not  have  been 
the  essentials  to  a  lady's  toilette  in  the  olden  time 
which  they  now  are. 

One  poke-bonnet  is  funny  enough  to  contemplate, 
but  imagine  a  whole  congregation  of  poke-bonnets  ! 

How  it  steals  away  from  the  romance  of  the  olden 
love-tales,  when  we  imagine  the  belles  and  beaux 
who  figured  in  them  attired  in  the  quaint  costumes 
of  the  last  century. 

Think  of  Burns  wooing  his  Highland  Mary  with 
her  sweet  face  hidden  in  a  poke-bonnet !  "  I'm  sitting 
on  the  stile,  Mary,"  was  well  enough  for  a  man  to 
sing,  but  how  could  he  expect  his  inamorata  to  cross 
that  stile  to  sit  beside  him,  arrayed  in  all  the  fasci- 


ALL   ABOUT  BONNETS.  221 

nation  of  her  best  bonnet,  without  incurring  the  im 
minent  risk  of  falling  and  breaking  her  pretty 
neck  ? 

As  well  might  my  mother  have  expected  me  in 
my  early  days  to  clamber  over  fences  and  up  trees, 
with  a  sun-bonnet  flapping  in  my  eyes,  without  tear 
ing  my  dress,  or  bringing  everlasting  woe  to  my  be- 
ruffled  aprons. 

Probably  I  was  not  expected  to  emulate  my 
brother  Fred  in  his  various  hazardous  feats,  such  as 
climbing  trees,  perching  upon  the  topmost  peak 
of  the  barn-roof,  or  walking  upon  the  brink  of 
the  house-top,  with  nothing  between  him  and 
lieaven,  except  a  fair  chance  of  his  suddenly  quit 
ting  this  mundane  sphere. 

But  I  followed  as  closely  in  his  footsteps  as  it 
was  possible  to  do,  and  wherever  I  failed  of  success, 
or  met  with  some  mishap,  the  blame  might  all  have 
been  laid  upon  that  officious  bonnet. 

Another  specimen  of  curious  millinery  device  of 
much  later  date  than  that  in  which  the  poke-bonnet 
reigned  supreme,  is  still  hoarded  up  among  my 
treasures  of  antiquity. 

This  is  a  brown  silk  calash,  which  was  the  pride 
of  my  mother's  heart  at  eighteen.  This  buggy-top 
arrangement  is  over  a  foot  in  height ;  the  silk  is 


222  SPAKKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

puffed  over  curved  reeds  ;  the  front  is  finished  with 
a  double  box-plaiting  of  ribbon,  and  a  large  ribbon 
bow  is  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  back.  The  whole 
affair  resembles  the  top  of  an  old-fashioned  chaise, 
and  it  is  drawn  down  over  the  face  with  a  narrow 
ribbon  attached,  just  as  the  carriage-top  projects 
over  toward  the  dashboard. 

Women  who  wore  these  bonnets  must  have  ap 
peared  exceedingly  tall,  since  they  sometimes  added 
to  the  height  of  the  calash,  by  placing  a  towering  bou 
quet  of  flowers  upon  the  extreme  top  of  the  crown. 

A  tall  woman  in  a  calash  must  have  been  a  more 
fruitful  source  of  terror  to  the  sterner  sex  than  any 
modern  advocate  of  woman's  rights  arrayed  in  all  the 
bewitching  paraphernalia  of  panier,  chignon,  high- 
heeled  shoes,  parasol,  gloves,  fan,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  jaunty  little  hat  of  the  period,  could  possibly  be. 

But  the  poke-bonnet,  the  forbidding  calash,  and 
even  the  huge  sun-bonnet  which  cast  its  lengthened 
shadow  over  my  childish  days,  are  happily  all  num 
bered  among  the  things  that  were. 

I  can  even  wear  Fred's  hat  now,  or  one  so  like  it 
in  form  and  color  that  there  is  but  little  difference, 
without  exciting  the  least  remark.  But,  alas  !  there 
is  still  the  bitter  drop  left  in  the  cup,  for  in  the 
stately  promenade  on  the  avenue,  or  down  Broad- 


ALL    ABOUT   BONNETS.  223 

way,  there  are  no  grand  old  trees  full  of  happy 
birds,  twittering  their  love-songs  in  a  manner  which 
used  to  say,  "  Come  up  and  be  one  of  us ! "  to  me. 
And  there  are  no  high  fences  in  the  city  crossing 
one's  path  with  a  defiant  air,  as  if  daring  one  to 
pass  them. 

Besides,  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  lost  my  relish  for 
such  things ;  that  the  sombre  air  of  the  town  has 
tamed  the  squirrel-like  propensities  of  earlier  years, 
which  were  at  once  the  terror  of  my  mother,  and 
the  delight  of  mischievous  brother  Fred.  And  as  I 
look  into  the  faces  of  the  little  girls  of  the  present 
day,  I  can  discover  no  longing  for  the  adventures 
and  exploits  which  delighted  my  own  childhood. 

Children  who  spend  one  part  of  the  year  in  a 
crowded  city,  and  the  rest  at  a  fashionable  watering- 
place,  live  only  half  a  child's  life.  In  fact,  there  are 
no  real  children  in  fashionable  society,  but  miniature 
men  and  women.  Little  girls  who  walk  through 
the  streets  with  a  dignified  air,  attired  as  elegantly 
as  their  mammas,  would  be  shocked  at  the  mere 
idea  of  tearing  their  clothes ! 

And  little  boys,  who  have  discarded  "jackets" 
for  manly  vests  and  coats  ;  who  wear  watches,  flour 
ish  canes,  smoke  cigars,  and  talk  politics,  with  an  im 
portant  air,  are  above  all  childish  folly. 


224          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

Who  would  ever  dream  of  these  children  clam 
bering  over  fences,  climbing  trees,  wading  bare 
footed  through  the  brooks,  or  making  mud  pies  ? 

We  can  well  bid  adieu  to  the  bonnets  of  the  past 
generation  ;  they  were  too  much  for  us ;  but  it  would 
be  well  to  keep  the  simple,  fun-loving,  old-fash 
ioned  children. 


A   NOVEL   DKEAM. 

I  HAVE  just  finished  "Warwick."  And,  alas! 
wrapped  in  the  fancies  which,  despite  the  critics, 
that  fascinating  novel  has  enveloped  me,  the  every 
day  world  has  become  tame  and  excessively 
commonplace.  Aunt  Prim  says  that  I  have  lost  my 
senses,  and  Madge  declares  that  I  am  bewitched. 
And  really,  speaking  in  the  Warwickian  sense,  I 
have  become  like  those  people  who,  feasting  upon 
the  honey  of  Trebizond,  become  mad.  Only  last 
evening,  when  seated  in  my  favorite  corner  on  the 
drawing-room  sofa,  buried  in  the  mysteries  of  this 
mysterious  book,  following  the  hero  to  the  depths  of 
the  bottomless  pit,  Aunt  Prim  approached,  and  I 
saluted  her  with 

"Spectre  of  the  tombs,  avaunt ! " 

at  which  she  looked  at  me,  both  amazed  and  horrified. 
"  That  must  be  a  curious  book  you  are  reading  !  " 

she  said  grimly.     And  I  as  grimly  replied, 
10* 


226          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

"  It  is. " 

Soon  after,  Madge  came  tripping  into  the  room, 
singing  a  favorite  aria  from  the  last  new  opera. 
That  tiresome  girl  is  always  singing !  And  I  ex 
claimed,  "  Ilnsh,  Daughter  of  the  Prophets,  and  let 
my  soul  have  peace !  Though  thy  face  be  bright  as 
the  morning  star,  yet  art  thou  like  those  apples 
that  grow  upon  the  shores  of  the  Dead  Sea, 
which,  though  beautiful  to  look  upon,  within  are 
ashes !  Though  thou  excellest  the  women  of  Yezd 
in  beauty,  yet  thy  soul  is  frivolity  itself ! " 

"  Mirabile  dictu !  "  gasped  Madge,  transfixed 
with  amazement  at  this  unexpected  sally.  "  What 
have  I  to  do,  I  should  like  to  know,  with  the  apples 
of  the  Dead  Sea?  and  who  are  the  women  of 
Yezd  ? "  Here  she  quite  recovered  her  breath,  and 
began  to  rattle  away  with  such  volubility  about  the 
elegant  new  suits  worn  by  the  Misses  Butterfly,  when 
they  called  in  the  morning,  that  I  rushed  from  the 
drawing-room  in  despair,  taking  "  Warwick  "  with 
me.  I  sought  the  quiet  of  my  own  apartment,  and, 
drawing  an  easy-chair  directly  in  front  of  the  large 
mirror,  before  which  the  gas  burned  brilliantly,  I 
seated  myself,  and  gave  that  young  lady,  my  vis-d- 
vis  in  the  mirror,  a  good  talking  to. 

"  What  a  foolish,  silly  girl  you  are,  sitting  there 


A   NOVEL   DEEAM.  227 

in  the  mirror !  I  feel  quite  inclined  to  banish  you 
from  the  Sparkle  family  altogether  for  your  stu 
pidity.  Ever  since  you  read  that  book,  you  have 
been  looking  eagerly  in  society  for  some  Constant 
Earle — some  wondrously  gifted  youth,  who  should 
unite  the  wisdom  of  the  sages  with  the  beauty  of 
Apollo ! 

"  If  you  walked  on  Broadway,  your  eyes  have  been 
roving  restlessly,  in  hope  of  seeing  some  pale,  interest 
ing  youth,  with  a  shabby  coat,  and  a  bundle  under  his 
arm,  which  bundle  was  supposed  to  contain  the 
fruits  of  his  brain,  preserved  in  violet  ink.  But  you 
looked  in  vain ;  for  the  young  men  who  wore 
shabby  coats  were  shabby  themselves  ;  and,  if  they 
carried  parcels,  they  were  most  undoubtedly  dry- 
goods,  boots  to  be  mended,  or  cigar-boxes.  No 
grand  poems,  or  wonderful  romances  in  those  par 
cels,  carried  by  the  shabby  young  men  on  Broad 
way. 

"  And  you  have  attended  matinees,  concerts,  the 
opera,  and  every  place  where  youth,  beauty,  and 
talent  are  wont  to  meet;  and  you  have  eagerly 
scanned  every  face  in  search  of  your  ideal  hero. 
But  all  in  vain !  You  have  visited  art-galleries,  and 
amid  the  throng  of  living  and  of  pictured  faces 
which  surrounded  you,  you  have  gazed  lovingly  and 


228  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

eagerly  for  that  one  face  which  haunts  your  dreams. 
And  still  you  found  it  not.  Now,  Sparkle,  sitting 
over  there  in  the  mirror,  give  folly  to  the  winds ! 
There  never  was,  there  never  will  be  such  an  immac 
ulate  piece  of  humanity  as  Constant  Earle.  And  if 
you  should  find  him — he  would  be  married  !  And 
then  what  right  would  you  have  to  adore  him  \ 

"  Madge  says  Mr.  Cecil  is  like  him — but  Madge  is 
strongly  prejudiced  in  favor  of  Mr.  Cecil — and  not 
until  that  gentleman  descends  into  some  bottomless 
pit,  as  did  the  hero  of  this  novel,  and  discovers  a 
fortune,  will  I  acknowledge  the  likeness.  Even  then 
it  would  be  very  remote.  You  must  take  men  as 
they  are,  my  dear.  Not  as  they  are  pictured  in 
novels.  And  a  tiresome,  stupid,  bothersome,  intrac 
table  set  of  mortals  they  are,  I  can  assure  you ! 
And  now,  Sparkle,  I  hope  this  will  put  an  end  to 
your  nonsense ! " 

Having  finished  my  lecture  to  that  young  lady  in 
the  mirror,  I  leaned  back  in  my  chair,  and,  after 
reading  the  last  chapter  of  "  Warwick, "  I  fell  asleep. 
And  such  a  dream  as  followed !  The  author  of 
that  book  is  responsible  for  it !  I  dreamed  that  I 
sat  in  an  eastern  grove,  beneath  the  shade  of  the 
beautiful  Amrita,  or  Immortal  tree  ;  that  the  songs 
of  myriads  of  nightingales  flooded  the  air  with 


A   NOVEL   DREAM.  229 

music  ;  and  the  white  blossoms  of  the  Sandal  Malam 
made  delieionsly  fragrant  the  breath  of  night.  And, 
mingled  with  the  sweet  odor  of  these  flowers,  was 
that  of  the  blossoms  of  the  Nagacesara  tree,  whose 
fragrance  is  so  intoxicating  that  Camadeva,  the  God 
of  Love,  fills  his  quiver  with  these  flowers.  And 
there  came,  stealing  through  the  fragrant  grove,  the 
lute-like  murmuring  of  Chindara's  fount.  Just 
above  my  head  hovered  that  wonderful  bird,  the 
Huma,  whose  song  foretells  royalty  to  the  mortal 
above  whose  head  it  folds  his  wings.  And  hover 
ing  in  the  tree  above  me,  this  marvellous  bird 
poured  forth  a  witching  strain  of  melody,  And 
immediately  I,  a  wanderer  from  the  far-off  Isle  of 
Manhattan,  became  a  Princess  of  Hindostan,  and 
fell  passionately  in  love  with  the  God  Crishna — 
whom  all  Indian  women  adore!  And  Crishna 
himself  stood  in  all  the  glory  of  his  beauty  before 
me.  The  evening  air  was  already  laden  with  music, 
but  when  he  spoke  his  voice  was  far  sweeter  than 
the  voices  of  those  who  had  eaten  the  leaves  of  that 
enchanted  tree  which  grows  over  the  tomb  of  the 
great  musician,  Tan  Sein.  And  then  the  <rod 

O  '  o 

Crishna  seated  himself  beside  me,  upon  a  silken 
couch,  filled  with  rose-leaves  gathered  from  the 
rare  roses  which  bloom  in  the  Garden  of  the  Nile — 


230  SPAKKLES   FEOM    SARATOGA. 

the  most  beautiful  in  the  world.  Gracefully  my 
Indian  Apollo  swept  his  fingers  over  a  silver- 
tongued  lute — which  a  slave  had  brought  him — and 

o  O 

then  he  sang,  and  his  singing  was  like  the  sound  of 
those  bells  which  hang  from  celestial  trees,  and 
which,  swaying  to  and  fro  in  the  wind  that  floats 
from  the  Great  White  Throne,  waken  melody  for 
the  ears  of  the  blessed !  And  thus  he  sang — 

"  Nburjehan  !  Light  of  the  World  !  Thou  art 
lovelier  than  the  nightingale's  song,  and  sweeter 
than  the  blossoms  in  Camadeva's  quiver !  Thy 
tresses  are  bright  as  the  golden-hued  flowers  which 
float  upon  Hemasagara's  waters — upon  the  Sea  of 
Gold — and  thine  eyes  are  as  blue  as  the  water-lilies 
in  the  vale  of  Cashmere ! " 

As  I  listened,  enraptured,  to  every  note,  and  gazed 
admiringly  upon  his  handsome  face — whose  face 
should  it  be,  but — Fitz  Hugh's!  Soon  after  I 
made  this  wonderful  discovery  the  grove  around  us 
became  filled  with  strange,  fantastic  beings,  and  then 
a  troop  of  demons,  led  by  the  dread  Silitim,  and 
followed  by  the  terrible  Ghoolee  Beeabau,  appeared, 
and  disturbed  our  charming  tete-d-tete.  A  form  and 
face,  ugly  as  the  face  and  form  of  Ilakem-ben- 
Haschem,  drew  near  me,  and  I  started  up  in  affright. 
Near  by  stood  my  faithful  Arabian  horse,  one  of  that 


A    NOVEL    DKEAM.  231 

famous  Koclilani  breed,  whose  written  genealogy 
has  been  kept  for  two  thousand  years,  and  who  are 
said  to  have  descended  from  King  Solomon's  steeds. 
I  quickly  mounted  this  beautiful  horse,  and  strove 
to  escape.  But  suddenly  the  terrible  sound  of  the 
Kerna,  the  war  trumpet  of  the  Arabs,  pierced  my 
ear,  and,  screaming  with  affright — I  awoke.  And 
there  I  sat  in  the  easy-chair  with  "  "Warwick  "  upon 
my  lap,  and  that  saucy  girl  in  the  mirror  laughing 
at  me! 


XXXII. 

SUNDAY    AT   THE    SPRINGS. 

THE  Sabbath  bells  ring  out  as  sweetly  here  to 
summon  the  wayward  and  erring  to  leave  for  a  little 
hour  their  pleasure  and  frivolity,  as  in  quieter  places, 
where  the  hush  of  the  sacred  day  lies  not  only  upon 
the  people,  but  also  upon  the  town.  Although  the 
throng  at  the  hotels  never  seems  to  diminish,  yet  the 
churches  are  all  well  filled.  This  morning  the  Rev. 

O 

Dr.  Highflyer  from  Gotham  was  announced  to 
preach,  and  crowds  of  people  went  to  hear  him. 

You  remember  that  his  church  is  one  of  those 
magnificent  edifices  far  up  on  Fifth  Avenue. 

The  sermon  of  this  morning  was  pronounced  to 
be  a  delightful  one.  It  was  none  of  those  dreadful 
alarums  which  the  sentries  of  the  pulpit  sometimes 
sound  forth  ;  but  it  was  rather  a  discourse  upon  the 
ancient  Romans — the  wicked  Jews — the  Pharaohs 
and  the  Herods  of  the  olden  time,  and,  as  nothing 
was  mentioned  of  the  Pharaohs  and  Herods  of  our 
time,  the  entire  congregation  listened  complacently, 
and  old  Father  Mildew,  who  occupied  a  front  seat, 


SUNDAY    AT   THE    SPRINGS.  233 

nodded  his  head  approvingly  at  various  points  of 
the  discourse. 

The  reverend  doctor's  style  is  one  of  the  most  ethe 
real  imaginable.  If  he  enters  the  dim  land  of  the 
past  in  quest  of  characters  to  elucidate  his  theme,  he 
presents  us  with  shadowy,  pale-faced  spectres  instead 
of  real  -flesh  and  blood  realities — and  as  for  grap 
pling  with  the  giants  of  evil  which  stalk  in  our  very 
midst  at  the  present  day,  he  would  never  think  of 
that ! 

If  he  does  condescend  sometimes  to  bring  his 
illustrations  to  bear  upon  practical,  everyday  life, 
they  are  still  so  cloud-like,  so  intangible,  that  the 
modern  sinner  may  pass  through  the  ordeal  quite 
unscathed. 

The  doctor  himself  is  also  quite  ethereal,  in  fact, 
spirituelj  to  look  upon.  His  face  is  pale,  probably 
from  long  studying ;  his  eyes  are  large  and  dark, 
and  luminous  with  the  fire  of  the  spirit  which  burns 
within ;  his  hands  are  white  and  delicate  as  a 
woman's.  If  he  has  not  been  taught  by  nature  to 
use  those  hands  to  the  best  advantage,  then,  I  should 
surely  say,  that  Dame  Vanity  has  given  him  ample 
instruction  on  that  point.  The  Widow  Dash  has 
not  a  single  art  of  coquetry  more  perfectly  at  her 
command,  than  has  the  Rev.  Dr.  Highflyer  the  art 


234  SPARKLES    FROM   SARATOGA. 

of  displaying  those  small  white  hands  to  perfection. 
He  wears  the  black  silk  gown  with  a  regal  air,  and 
as  for  the  rest  of  his  attire,  it  is  simply  immaculate. 

AYhen  he  turns  his  dark  eyes  upward,  then  sud 
denly  flashes  them,  filled  with  tears,  upon  the  au 
dience,  while  the  tones  of  his  rich  voice  ring  forth, 
the  sympathetic  effect  is  instantaneous,  and  many 
bright  eyes  are  seen  to  glisten.  JBnt  those  tears  are 
not  shed  over  the  miseries  and  the  follies  of  the 
present — no,  no !  they  fall  upon  the  grave  of  the 
irrevocable  past.  When  the  fate  of  Ananias  and 
Sapphira  is  told,  old  Father  Mildew  listens,  but 
trembles  not !  The  sin  of  covetousness  and  deceit 
is  pictured  as  belonging  so  peculiarly  to  those  ill- 
fated  creatures,  and  they  lived  so  very  long  ago, 
that  Father  Mildew  never  thinks  of  taking  the  les 
son  home  ! 

When  the  words,  "  Thou  shalt  not  steal,"  sound 
from  Holy  Writ,  Mr.  Bullion,  who  deals  in  gold 
and  in  stocks,  and  who  is,  perhaps,  the  wealthiest 
member  of  the  reverend  doctor's  church,  listens,  as 
a  matter  of  course  ;  but  he  never  dreams  that  those 
words  apply  to  him !  What  if  he  chances  to  learn 
that  a  certain  stock  is  to  be  "  cornered,"  and,  taking 
advantage  of  his  neighbor's  ignorance  of  that  fact, 
buys  all  of  that  stock  which  his  neighbor  holds? 


SUNDAY   AT  THE   SPRINGS.  235 

Or,  what  if  he  himself  helps  to  "  corner  "  that  stock, 
knowing  that  thousands  must  lose,  although  a  few 
will  be  rich  gainers  ?  His  conscience  never  twits 
him  of  robbing  his  neighbor. 

"  Thou  shalt  not  lie "  does  not  trouble  Mrs. 
Proudie's  conscience  at  all,  notwithstanding  that 
she  never  hesitates  to  say  "  not  at  home  "  to  a  dis 
agreeable  visitor,  or  to  overwhelm  with  flattery  some 
one  whom  she  inwardly  detests  !  "  Thou  shalt  not 
covet "  doesn't  keep  Mrs.  MacFlimsey  from  gazing 
longingly  at  her  neighbor's  new  India  shawl,  during 
all  the  service  ;  nor  her  daughter  Flora  from  having 
a  strong  desire  to  annihilate  my  eyes  on  account  of 
Fitz  Hugh!  In  the  pew  directly  in  front  of  us, 
sat  Deacon  Sombre  and  his  family.  When  the  sil 
ver  plate  goes  round,  the  deacon  always  gives  lib 
erally.  And  the  deacon's  wife  also  has  a  reputation 
for  generosity  of  character.  She  has  been  so  very 
kind,  especially  to  the  minister.  She  it  was  who 
presented  him  with  the  elegant  neglige  and  the 
embroidered  slippers,  which  he  wears  of  a  morning 
in  his  study  ;  she  it  was  who  presented  those  beau 
tiful  pieces  of  velvet,  embroidered  with  gold,  which 
hang  from  the  Bible  and  prayer-book.  And  that 
superb  altar-cloth  was  also  her  gift.  Ah  !  who,  in 
all  that  great  congregation,  is  so  very,  very  liberal 


236  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

as  Mrs.  Deacon  Sombre  ?  And  yet — there  lives  a 
poor  relative  in  the  deacon's  family,  who  occupies 
a  dreary  little  room  in  the  top  of  their  elegant 
mansion,  and  who  slaves  there,  alone  and  in  sadness, 
from  morning  till  night,  preparing  the  finery  of  the 
deacon's  fashionable  daughters  !  If  u  charity  be 
gins  at  home,"  there  are,  alas !  too  many  exceptions 
to  the  rule  !  Just  opposite  Deacon  Sombre's  pew, 
in  Dr.  Highflyer's  own  church  in  Gotham,  is  that 
of  Papa  Goldbug.  They  are  new-comers  to  this 
fashionable  church.  As  they  have  risen  in  the  scale 
of  fashion,  they  have  also  risen  from  the  plain  little 
sanctuary  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  which  they 
frequented  in  former  years.  They  find  themselves 
here  in  an  altogether  new  atmosphere.  Papa  Gold- 
bug  hardly  feels  himself  at  home  as  yet.  He  gazes 
admiringly  around  the  spacious  edifice,  while  his 
fussy,  pretentious  little  wife  is  busily  engaged  in 
scanning  the  latest  novelties  in  cloaks  or  bonnets 
from  Paris,  and  the  endless  variety  of  costumes  dis 
played  by  the  belles  of  Upper-tendom.  The  little 
Goldbug,  their  daughter,  criticises  the  dresses,  the 
minister,  the  music,  and  is  almost  as  much  inter 
ested  as  though  she  were  listening  to  a  new  play  or 
an  opera.  The  music,  of  course,  is  of  the  highest 
order,  since  the  quartet  is  formed  by  singers  from 


SUNDAY   AT    THE    SPKINGS.  237 

the  Italian  Opera.  Services  sometimes  commence 
with  a  prelude  upon  the  grand  organ,  arranged 
from  "  Faust,"  and  end  with  the  shadow  aria  from 
"  Dinorah  " ! 

Madge  says  that  if  "  it  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle  than  for  a  rich  man  to 
enter  heaven,"  she  would  like  to  know  how  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Highflyer,  with  his  congregation,  is  ever 
to  reach  that  place.  But  Madge  is  such  a  queer 
girl! 


XXXIII. 

A   DUEL. 

THERE  are  some  things  which  we  had  really  sup 
posed  to  have  become  obsolete — customs  and  cos 
tumes  which  are  only  worthy  of  being  brought  up 
to  be  wondered  at,  and  shrink  back  into  their  for 
gotten  corners  with  a  thank  Heaven !  that  they  have 
departed  in  peace. 

We  refer  just  now  to  the  duel — for  who  ever  hears 
of  a  duel  nowadays  ? 

We  had  thought  that  duels  belonged  to  those 
"  good  old  times  "  to  which  elderly  people  are  so 
fond  of  referring — those  days  when  men  and  women 
were  wrapped  up  in  saintly  perfection,  and  knew 
nothing  of  the  vices  of  this  "  degenerate  age." 

We  had  fondly  cherished  the  idea  that  the  duel 
went  out  with  the  sword  which  once  belonged  to  the 
dress  suit  of  a  gentleman  in  the  olden  time — with 
the  velvet  knee-breeches,  the  gold  buckles,  and 
powdered  perukes. 

Eeally,  we  are  surprised  that  any  young  person 


A   DUEL.  239 

of  modern  ideas  can  be  so  extremely  old-fashioned 
as  to  thirst  for  a  duel. 

But  there  is  no  accounting  for  the  whimsical 
caprices  of  men — to  say  nothing  of  women — and 
therefore  Saratoga  is  blessed  with  a  new  sensation 
— entirely  new,  and  quite  absurd  enough  to  make  the 
fashionable  world  hold  its  breath  for  a  moment  and 
lift  up  its  hands  in  holy  horror. 

The  rumor  has  flown  from  mouth  to  mouth — has 
even  crept  into  the  newspapers,  to  fill  up  and  enliven 
the  reporter's  column — that  a  duel  between  two  dis 
tinguished  young  gentlemen  here  is  on  the  tapis. 

A  fiery  young  Colonel  from  the  impetuous  South 
is  reported  to  have  challenged  to  mortal  combat  a 
quiet,  "  inoffensive  citizen  "  of  the  North. 

Now,  this  challenge  from  the  hot-headed  South 
erner  might  possibly  be  a  source  of  extreme  surprise 
to  the  young  man  of  the  North,  since  we  know  very 
little  or  nothing  of  duels  here. 

A  genuine  "  free  fight,"  gotten  up  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  might  be  understood ;  but,  since  the 
day  that  Aaron  Burr  shot  Alexander  Hamilton  in 
cold  blood,  the  duel  has  not  been  excessively  popu 
lar  with  us — in  fact,  it  has  utterly  lost  prestige. 

We  may  be  lacking  the  proper  spirit  for  under 
standing  the  best  modus  operandi  of  settling  a  quar- 


24:0  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

rel  and  resenting  an  affront ;  but,  after  all,  we 
cannot  help  thinking  that  it  is  a  most  comfortable 
state  of  affairs  when  a  man  has  courage  enough  to 
pass  by  an  insult  or  to  rise  above  an  injury,  without 
the  aid  of  a  sword  or  of  a  revolver. 

We  really  cannot .  see,  despite  the  sneers  at  our 
cowardice  by  the  ardent  Southerner,  that  the  duel 
is  absolutely  essential  to  our  happiness,  or  to  our 
credit. 

The  late  tournament,  which  was  intended  to  re 
vive  the  ancient  spirit  of  chivalry  in  the  manly 
hearts  of  those  who  have  of  late  been  given  more  to 
the  displaying  of  diamond  studs  and  marvellous 
pins  than  anything  else,  has  given  rise  to  the  ru 
mored  duel. 

The  tournament  was  intended  to  be  a  friendly 
competition  in  horsemanship  between  the  young 
men  of  the  North  and  of  the  South,  and  was  pro 
jected  by,  and  carried  out  under  the  supervision 
of  a  young  Southerner  who  is  a  Colonel  in  the 
army. 

After  the  tournament  there  came  to  the  gallant 
Colonel's  ears  a  contemptuous  remark  made  by  a 
wealthy  young  gentleman,  who  floats  upon  the  cream 
of  fashionable  society,  to  the  effect  that  the  brave 
"  Knights  "  from  the  South  were  only  "  country 


A   DUEL.  241 

bumpkins  "  instead  of  belonging  to  the  F.  F.  Y.'s, 
and  that  the  tournament  was  nothing  but  a  "  two 
penny  show." 

Now,  such  a  statement  as  this  was  terrible  indeed, 
and  angered  the  high-spirited  Colonel  to  the  last 
degree. 

Of  course  there  is  no  better  way  to  resent  such  an 
affront  than  to  make  a  target  of  one's  self  for  an 
other  person's  bullet,  or  to  make  a  target  of  that  im 
pertinent  individual. 

Please  to  observe  now,  that  the  very  latest  fashion 
in  targets,  is  a  couple  of  high-toned,  chivalric  young 
gentlemen,  who  wish  to  die  that  their  wounded 
honor  may  be  avenged. 

In  settling  the  dispute  in  question,  it  might  perhaps 
have  been  easy  enough  to  refute  the  slander  as  to 
the  respectability  of  the  aforesaid  "  Knights,"  as 
many  of  them  are  well  known  to  belong  to  good 
families ;  and,  as  for  the  "  two-penny  show,"  the 
tickets  were  something  like  five  dollars  for  the 
tournament  and  ball,  and  moreover  the  young  man 
who  affected  to  despise  the  "  show  "  drove  out  with 
his  four-in-hand  to  witness  it. 

But  no,  there  was  no  other  way  to  blot  out  this 
horrible  stain  upon  the  Colonel's  reputation  than  by 

mortal  combat ;  no  way  of  overcoming  little  diflicul- 
11 


242          SPAEKLES  FKOM  SARATOGA. 

ties  which  might  arise  between  these  prond  young 
bloods  than  by  dropping  them  with  a  bullet. 

The  strangest  part  of  it  all  is  that  the  Colonel's 
father  thinks  the  Colonel  should  fight  it  out;  the 
Colonel's  sister  refuses  to  read  any  more  novels,  to 
perpetrate  any  more  flirtations,  in  fact,  to  console 
herself  in  any  way,  until  the  Colonel  sustains  the 
reputation  of  his  family  by  properly  resenting  this 
insult  iii  a  duel ;  and  lastly,  the  Colonel's  mother 
hopes  that  her  son  has  enough  of  good  Southern 
blood  in  him  to  teach  these  snobbish  Northerners 
how  to  behave. 

And  so  we  have,  by  the  force  of  circumstances, 
been  driven  seriously  to  think  of  the  duel,  not 
only  as  a  fine  art,  but  as  a  useful  and  respectable 
calling. 

Of  course  our  deliberations  have  ended  with  the 
conclusion  that  no  one  should  be  allowed  to  insult 
us  with  impunity  !  Honor  is  more  than  life  ;  and  it 
is  not  material  whether  a  life  is  lost  or  not,  in  settling 
a  petty  war  of  words.  So  that  one's  honor  is  fully 
vindicated,  one  may  go  to  sleep  with  a  bullet  through 
the  heart  with  a  vast  deal  of  satisfaction.  We  are 
all  of  such  individual  importance  that  to  resent  a 
real  or  fancied  affront,  we  can  easily  afford  to  give 
up  our  lives  and  call  quits  with  the  world. 


A    DUEL.  243 

And  then  there  is  so  little  for  some  people  to  do 
in  this  life  ;  so  little  life  work  to  be  performed,  that 
they  can  just  as  well  as  not  step  out  at  a  moment's 
notice  without  ever  being  missed. 

And  wre  know  of  no  quicker  method  of  exit,  none 
more  especially  adapted  to  such  individuals,  than 
the  duel. 

And  it  is  pleasant  to  reflect  upon  the  charming 
state  of  mind  which  must  follow  the  survivor  of  a 
fatal  duel ;  the  pleasing  recollections  of  that  spirited 
occasion  which  will  help  to  console  his  lonely  hours. 
To  carry  the  stain  of  a  brother's  blood  upon  one's 
soul  through  life  must  be  such  a  comfortable  sensa 
tion! 

But  the  duel  of  which  we  speak  has  not  yet  taken 
place. 

If  the  event  is  really  contemplated,  it  might  be 
just  as  well  for  the  disputing  parties  to  select  Glen 
Mitchell,  or  some  other  quiet,  romantic  spot,  and 
admit  the  public  to  this  "  two-penny  show  "  at  so 
much  a  head,  the  proceeds  to  be  devoted  to  paying 
the  passage  of  the  survivor  to  some  country  where 
duelling  is  more  popular  than  here,  and  where  he 
may  wipe  out  every  stain  from  his  escutcheon  with 
the  point  of  his  sword. 

But  this  subject  frightens  me  ! 


244  SPAKKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

I  lay  down  my  pencil  to  consider  what  will  be 
the  consequences  of  being  sarcastic  upon  the  Colonel 
and  his  friend  (?) — and  whether  I  myself  am  not  in 
curring  the  imminent  danger  of  a  challenge. 

Can  it  be  possible  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  settle 
my  feathers  and  flounces  and  prepare  for  a  duel  ? 
Or,  will  it  not  be  better  to  look  out  for  some  modern 
Bayard  sans peur  et  sans  reproche,  who  will  take  up 
his  trusty  sword  in  my  defence  ? 

Beats  there  a  heart  so  brave  beneath  the  immacu 
late  plaits  and  diamond  studs  of  the  knights  of 
Saratoga  ? 

I  set  forth  in  my  Quixotic  search. 


XXXIV. 

AMONG    THE   LILIES. 

often  spend  whole  days  in  the  vicinity  of 
Saratoga  Lake,  glad  for  a  little  while  to  escape  the 
hum  of  fashionable  life.  And  what  place  could  be 
found  more  charming  than  the  banks  of  this  beauti 
ful  lake  in  the  fervid  month  of  August  ? 

Sitting  upon  the  shore  and  watching  the  play  of 
the  sunbeams  with  the  blue  waves,  dreaming 
delightful  day-dreams,  with  roguish,  mischief -loving 
Madge  upon  one  side,  and  Fitz  Hugh  upon  the 
other,  what  more  could  a  thankless  mortal  desire  ? 
What  matter  if  the  dizzy  whirl  of  hops  and  balls 
does  not  reach  us  here ;  if  no  bevies  of  butterfly- 
belles  distract  us  with  their  chattering,  and  110  invinc 
ible  array  of  beaux  challenges  our  admiration,  and 
disconcert  us  with  their  eye-glases  ;  and  we  are  not 
compelled  to  make  elaborate  toilettes,  and  to  lavish 
our  deepest  thoughts  upon  ribbons  and  ruffles? 
What  matter  if  we  are  denied,  or  have  escaped  all 
this  ?  We  are  truly  enjoying  a  blessed  quiet  in  the 
most  unsophisticated  manner  in  the  world. 


246  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

Under  the  trees,  amid  the  sweet  haunts  of  nature, 
where  the  birds  sing ;  where  every  breath  of  the 
summer  breeze  comes  to  us  laden  with  the  perfume 
of  a  thousand  flowers  ;  where  the  wind  floats  music 
ally  among  the  leaves — the  leaves  which  are 
Nature's  ^Eoliaii  harps  ever  breathing  forth 
melody ;  where  the  waters  ripple  in  the  sunlight, 
and  sing  of  the  far-off  sea  as  they  break  in  little 
waves  upon  the  shore ;  where  one  may  listen  all  day 
long  and  never  hear  a  discordant  sound — ah!  to  one 
who  is  weary  of  the  noise  and  jar  of  the  city, 

"  If  there  be  an  Elysium  on  earth 
It  is  this,  it  is  this !  " 

The  cool  mountain  breezes  which  ripple  the 
smooth  surface  of  the  lake  seem  to  instil  a  new 
vigor  into  sluggish  veins,  and  to  promise  a  new 
lease  of  life  to  those  who  have  grown  weary  and 
faint  by  the  wayside. 

The  principal  amusement  for  boating  parties 
upon  the  lake  is  fishing.  The  water  is  exceedingly 
clear  and  the  fish  the  most  accommodating  little 
creatures  that  ever  wore  fins ;  they  really  appear 
fond  of  being  caught  on  a  hook. 

Oh !  if  I  were  some  little  fish 
And  lived  in  a  clear  little  brook, 

I  vow  by  my  eye,  when  you  went  by, 
I'd  fasten  myself  on  your  hook  ! 


AMONG   THE    LILIES.  247 

That's  what  Madge  sings  when  she  goes  a-fishing, 
and  Madge  is  an  adept  in  throwing  out  alluring 
bait  both  under  the  water  and  above  it ! 

Foolish  fishes,  or  susceptible  youths — it  does  not 
matter  which — Madge  always  has  "  a  catch  "  on  the 
end  of  her  line. 

The  shining  meshes  of  her  purplish  black  hair  are 
more  dangerous  than  any  net  that  was  ever  thrown 
into  the  sea,  and  the  soft  glances  of  her  brown  eyes 
strike  deeper  than  any  hook  or  spear. 

Madge  makes  a  charming  picture  when  boating 
among  the  water-lilies  upon  the  Lake.  She  looks 
the  mortal  embodiment  of  the  fragrant  flowers 
themselves  as  she  floats  among  them.  They  nestle 
in  her  luxuriant  hair ;  they  rest  lovingly  upon  her 
bosom,  and,  lying  in  her  lap  in  profusion,  they 
caress  her  white  fingers  as  if  with  mute  joy,  as  she 
groups  them  artistically  arid  tenderly  together. 

And  while  they  thus  surround  her  with  a  halo  of 
perfume,  Madge  declares  that  they  are  whispering 
their  passion  for  her,  and  if  they  droop  or  die,  she 
says  that  they  die  of  sweet  love. 

Fitz  Hugh  is  not  fond  of  fishing,  and  says  that  he 
cannot  see  why  the  cruel  philosopher  who  spent  the 
best  part  of  his  time  in  murdering  the  innocents  of 


248  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

the  deep,  should  be  spoken  of  as  the  "good  old 
Isaac  Walton ! " 

I  quite  agree  with  Fitz  Hugh,  in  this  point  at 
least,  and  feel  quite  proud  of  his  compassionate 
nature.  But  Aunt  Prim  sniffs  her  nose  scornfully 
in  the  air  at  all  such  nonsense,  says  that  fishes  don't 
feel,  twitches  them  mercilessly  off  from  the  barbar 
ous  hook,  and  when  they  writhe  and  flop  about,  she 
avers  it  is  nothing  but  nervousness  and  timidity  at 
being  in  a  strange  place  ! 

Will  any  disciple  of  the  humane  Mr.  Bergh  ever 
espouse  the  cause  of  the  poor,  abused  Wishes  ? 

A  young  medical  student,  who  formed  one  of  our 
fishing  party  yesterday,  quite  agreed  with  Aunt 
Prim's  notions  in  regard  to  the  finny  tribe,  and  pro 
nounced  the  lively  motions  of  the  fish  upon  the 
hook  to  be  nothing  but  "spasmodic  action  of  the 
nerves ! "  He  said  they  were  cold-blooded  creat 
ures,  and  therefore  not  capable  of  much  suffering, 
and  added  a  good  deal  more  scientific  twaddle  of 
the  same  kind. 

That  man  is  as  cold-Hooded  as  any  fish  that  ever 
swam! 

Madge  and  I  knew  very  well  what  this  disciple  of 
Esculapius  was  aiming  at  in  thus  trying  to  ingra- 


AMONG   THE   LILIES.  249 

tiate  himself  with  Aunt  Prim,  and  snubbing  Fitz 
Hugh's  opinions. 

What  his  chances  of  success  were  might  be 
augured  from  the  odd  faces  Madge  perpetrated  be 
hind  his  back,  as  she  dissected  his  heart  with  a 
fish-hook,  by  proxy,  upon  the  green  leaf  of  a  lily ! 

If  the  Lake  is  charming  by  daylight,  what  shall 
be  said  of  it  when  haloed  by  the  wondrous  beauty 
of  a  summer's  night  ? 

There  are  but  two  ogres  here  which  disturb  our 
peace,  and  these  are  the  night  air  and  the  evening 
dew. 

Not  that  Madge  and  I  ever  trouble  our  heads  with 
such  trifling  matters,  but  Aunt  Prim  is  in  a  con 
tinual  worry  about  the  state  of  her  health,  and  as 
soon  as  the  sun  goes  down  she  infects  us  all  with  an 
uncomfortable  chilliness. 

No  wonder  that  we  try  to  escape  sometimes,  as 
we  did  last  evening  when  we  had  a  starlight  row 
upon  the  lake. 

It  was  an  amusing  picture  to  see  Aunt  Prim  as 
she  waved  us  an  adieu  from  the  shore,  wrapped  in 
innumerable  shawls,  and  shivering  beneath  the  mild 
influence  of  a  few  drops  of  dew. 

You  would  have  thought  from  her  oft-expressed 

fears  that  we  were  about  to  depart  with  Captain 
11* 


250  SPARKLES  FROM   SARATOGA. 

Hall  in  search  of  the  North  Pole,  instead  of  sailing 
away  over  a  beautiful  lake,  upon  whose  glassy  sur 
face  there  was  scarcely  a  ripple. 

Aunt  Prim  retired  to  seek  the  shelter  of  the  hotel 
parlor,  and  to  deplore  the  waywardness  of  young 
people  who  refused  to  look  upon  things  through  her 
spectacles,  and  would  go  romancing  over  the  lake, 
despite  the  terrible  "  night  air  "  and  the  dew  ! 

But,  leaving  Aunt  Prim  and  gloomy  care  upon 
the  shore,  we  yielded  ourselves  to  all  the  witchery 
of  the  beautiful  night. 

Madge  was  in  the  merriest  mood,  and  kept  our 
faces  rippling  over  with  smiles  at  her  lively  sallies. 

The  medical  student,  who  sat  beside  her,  was 
deeply  inclined  to  the  sentimental,  looked  mourn 
fully  up  to  the  stars,  drew  deep  sighs,  and  stole 
long,  lingering  glances  at  Cousin  Madge,  who  was 
oblivious  to  nothing — except  his  devotion. 

Fitz  Hugh  was  just  as  he  always  is,  and  always 
should  be;  that  is,  sufficiently  engrossed  with  the 
sublime  consciousness  of  his  own  perfections  to 
prevent  him  from  ever  losing  his  own  identity  in 
that  of  another,  or  from  becoming  so  sweetly  obliv 
ious  of  himself  as  did  the  medical  student,  who  nearly 
capsized  the  boat  and  bespattered  himself  plen 
tifully  while  admiring  Madge's  shadow  in  the  lake  ! 


AMONG   THE   LILIES.  251 

There  was  a  dash  of  cold  water  upon  youthful 
ardor ! 

This  little  incident,  of  course,  added  immensely 
to  the  mirth  of  the  party — the  student,  perhaps, 
excepted. 

As  we  glided  over  the  water  every  star  in  the 
heavens  glittered  brightly  above  us.  Directly  in  the 
zenith  Lyra  blazed  and  burned  with  a  sweet,  mys 
tical  meaning. 

The  radiant  Cross  flashed  its  rich  jewels  of  stars 
from  out  the  myriads  of  worlds  which  form  the 
milky  way,  and  the  bright  Northern  Crown,  Corona 
Borealis,  the  loveliest  constellation  in  all  the 
heavens,  looked  down  upon  us. 

Who  has  not  listened  to  hear  the  music  of  the 
spheres  ?  Who  that  has  lingered  lost  in  the  contem 
plation  of  the  starry  heavens,  has  not  fancied  that 
he  saw  the  swift  flight  of  the  immortals  from  world 
to  world,  and  heard  strains  of  unearthly  music,  of 
divine,  mysterious  melody  ? 

But  our  party  upon  the  lake  was  too  full  of 
mirth  to  dwell  upon  these  things,  and  they  sang 
among  themselves  merry  little  ditties  which  floated 
softly  over  the  water,  and  barcarolles  to  woo  the 
water-nymphs  to  rise  and  listen. 

But  the  water-nymphs  were  evidently  slumbering 


252         SPAKKLES  FKOM  SARATOGA. 

down  beneath  the  waves,  with  the  lilies,  and  re 
fused  to  appear.  And  thus  floated  by  us  another 
day,  breaking  upon  the  dim  shores  of  the  past  with 
a  musical  murmur,  like  that  of  the  waves  which 
plashed  and  glittered  in  the  moonlight  as  we 
touched  again  the  shore. 


XXXV. 

THE   FLUSH   OF   THE   LEAF. 

THE  gay  season  of  Saratoga  is  almost  over. 
Adieux  lightly  spoken,  good-byes  softly  whispered, 
and  kisses  of  farewell  are  as  plentiful  as  autumn 
leaves. 

Tear-drops,  and  heartaches,  sometimes  mingle 
with  them,  and  there  is  a  little  dash  of  sadness 
thrown  over  the  sweetness  of  life,  just  as  the  passing 
cloud  sprinkles  rain-drops  on  the  roses. 

Every  dream  must  have  its  awakening,  and  the 
long,  beautiful  summer  dream  is  over.  The  sun 
has  lost  its  fervid  heat,  for  its  beams  are  veiled  in 
the  floating  mists  of  autumn. 

The  flowers  have  nearly  all  gone ;  the  flitting 
summer  has  beckoned  them  away,  and  those  few 
blossoms  which  still  linger  to  catch  the  warm,  rich 
hues  of  autumn  will  follow  soon. 

The  birds  are  singing  their  farewell  songs  to  the 
whispering  green  leaves,  which  grow  pale  and  yel 
low  as  they  listen — or  blush  into  crimson  before  the 
f  ervidness  of  song. 


254  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

Even  the  winds  have  a  plaintive  sound — like  the 
voice  of  one  who  has  just  bidden  farewell  to  the 
best-beloved — for  the  winds  have  passed  the  beauti 
ful  summer  as  she  journeys  southward. 

The  fashionable  world,  which  has  made  the  life 
of  Saratoga  for  so  many  delightful  weeks,  fickle  as 
ever,  deserts  the  scenes  which  it  professed  to  hold 
so  dear,  and  is  flitting  homeward. 

Every  morning  we  miss  some  familiar  face,  some 
sparkling  eye  and  merry  voice,  from  the  piazza ; 
and  every  evening  the  parlors  and  ballrooms 
are  less  crowded.  There  remains  now  only  a 
memory  where  some  beautiful  reality  has  lived 
and  breathed. 

The  dark-eyed  belles  of  the  sunny  South,  the 
piquant,  bewitching  maidens  from  the  land  which 
glows  beneath  the  setting  sun,  the  staid  daughters 
from  New  England  homes,  and  the  stylish,  fashion 
able  beauties  of  Gotham,  who  have  gathered  here 
like  so  many  butterflies  in  quest  of  roses,  who  have 
each  striven  to  eclipse  all  others  by  their  wondrous 
toilets  and  their  bewildering  charms — all  these  have 
furled  their  defiant  little  flags,  packed  their  trunks 
reluctantly,  whispered  sad  farewells  to  their  de 
spondent  admirers,  and  departed  to  prepare  for 
the  winter's  campaign. 


THE  FLUSH  OF  THE  LEAF.  255 

The  beautiful  dresses  which  have  rustled  luxuri 
ously  through  the  parlors  and  on  the  piazza  are  now 
ignominiously  entombed  in  crowded  trunks ;  and 
the  jewels  which  flashed  their  liquid  light  beneath 
the  brilliant  chandeliers,  enhancing  the  beauty  of 
their  wearers  and  dazzling  the  eyes  of  beholders, 
are  consigned  to  blazing  unseen  within  their  dark 
caskets,  to  emerge  gloriously  when  some  fitting  oc 
casion  shall  offer,  but  no  more  to  illumine  the 
haunts  of  Saratoga.  The  powder-boxes,  rouge-pots, 
extra  puffs,  curls  and  frizzes — which  are  scarcely 
available  while  travelling — are  carefully  stored 
away  in  the  darkest  corners,  enveloped  in  many 
wrappings  and  shrouded  in  dreadful  mystery. 

Did  you  ever  meet  and  converse  with  a  lady 
whom,  at  first  glance,  you  supposed  to  be  young 
and,  perhaps,  beautiful ;  but  who,  as  you  scanned 
her  closely,  seemed  to  grow  suddenly  older,  five 
years  older  every  minute  that  you  talked  with  her, 
until,  if  you  were  able  to  continue  your  conversation 
with  a  growing  horror  for  one  half  hour,  you  felt 
that  you  stood  before  a  woman  old  enough  to  be 
Methuselah's  grandmother?  Did  you  notice  that 
her  strange  accent  while  talking  was  caused  by  the 
"  plumpers "  which  she  wore  in  her  mouth  to  fill 
out  her  sunken  cheeks  ? 


256  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

Did  you  mark  that  her  eyebrows  were  false  ? 
that  she  could  not  call  one  hair  of  her  elaborate 
chignon  her  own  ?  that  her  face  was  enamelled  and 
painted  to  the  last  degree  ?  that  her  wrinkled  neck 
and  meagre  shoulders  were  concealed  beneath  a 
false  throat  and  bust  of  sunny  whiteness  and  fault 
less  proportions,  and  that  the  place  where  this  art 
ful  contrivance  was  fastened  was  skilfully  hidden 
by  a  diamond  necklace?  Did  you  observe  that  her 
elegant  dress,  which  fitted  superbly,  displaying  ap 
parently  "  a  form  Praxiteles  might  worship,"  was  so 
fashioned  by  the  cunning  hand  of  the  French 
modiste  as  to  present  the  sylph-like  figure  of  sixteen 
rather  than  that  of  an  octogenarian  ? 

If  you  have  seen  and  noticed  all  this,  you  will 
have  some  true  conception  of  the  dreadful  secrets 
which  some  of  those  Saratoga  trunks  convey  from 
place  to  place.  Their  worn  and  ghastly  owner  fol 
lows  them  anxiously,  like  a  spectre  in  search  of  its 
substance  ;  and  I  tremble  to  think  of  the  frightful 
consequences  which  would  ensue  should  that  baggage 
be  lost !  A  curious  incident  of  this  kind  actually 
occurred  a  week  or  two  since  in  Saratoga. 

A  lady,  whose  age  is  known  to  few,  and  is  to  be 
queried  at,  or  hinted  at,  by  none — chose  to  leave 
the  hotel  where  she  was  stopping,  for  the  one  across 


THE  FLUSH  OF  THE  LEAF.  257 

the  street.  Early  in  the  morning,  before  the  fash 
ionable  world  of  Saratoga  was  astir,  closely  veiled 
and  wrapped  in  a  shawl,  she  quietly  entered  the 
new  hotel  and  took  possession  of  her  rooms. 

Her  trunks  were  to  follow  immediately.  But  by 
some  strange  mischance — some  unlucky  blunder  of 
the  porters — the  trunks  were  not  sent  to  her  rooms, 
bnt  were  carried  to  the  remote  end  of  the  village  to 
a  private  boarding-house. 

One  solitary,  immense  vehicle  of  dry-goods  was 
placed  in  her  apartment,  but  alas  !  it  did  not  belong 
to  her.  She  looked  at  its  iron  bands  and  firm  lock 
in  dismay. 

It  was  the  depository  of  some  other  feminine 
capital  in  society  (a  lady's  wardrobe  is  her  capital) 
and  not  her  own. 

What  was  she  to  do*?  In  any  emergency  it 
would  be  impossible  for  her  to  loosen  the  fastenings 
of  that  strange  trunk — and  knowing  well  what  her 
own  trunks  contained,  she  contemplated  this  un 
known  visitant  with  a  sort  of  nervous  horror — as  one 
trembles  before  a  hidden  mystery. 

In  a  sepulchral  tone  of  voice  she  ordered  the 
porter  to  remove  that  trunk,  and  to  bring  her  own. 
The  trunk  vanished,  but  the  day  wore  on,  and  the 
lady's  trunks  failed  to  make  their  appearance. 


258  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

The  dinner-hour  drew  near ;  it  was  impossible 
for  the  lady  to  leave  her  room  until  the  requisite 
articles  of  her  wardrobe  arrived.  There  was 
frantic  ringing  of  the  bell  of  No.  — ;  there  was 
hurrying  to  and  fro  of  sable  waiters;  there  was 
angry  consultation  with  stupid  porters ;  but,  alas ! 
all  was  of  no  avail. 

The  lady  paced  the  floor  of  the  room  in  a  state 
of  desperation  ;  she  looked  out  from  her  window, 
and  then  she  beheld  -a  si^ht  which  froze  the  little 

O 

life-blood  which  was  flowing  slowly  through  her 
veins.  There  was  the  Widow  Dash,  elegantly 
attired,  sitting  comfortably  on  the  piazza,  laughing 
and  chatting  with  this  lady's  last  adorer. 

At  least  she  had  fancied  him  to  be  an  adorer,  and 
this  very  day  she  had  intended  to  complete  her  con 
quest.  But  who  would  be  able  to  lure  him  from 
the  toils  of  the  "Widow  Dash  if  she  once  wove  her 
fascinations  around  him  ?  Who,  indeed  ?  This 
was  the  climax  to  her  troubles !  The  band  was 
playing  its  most  melodious  strains,  but  music  had 
no  charms  for  her.  There  sat  that  odious  Widow 
Dash,  beautiful  as  a  full-blown  rose,  with  her  own 
Captain  Fickle  gazing  admiringly  upon  her.  She 
turned  away  from  the  window  in  a  state  bordering 
upon  despair.  She  threw  herself  upon  her  bed,  re- 


THE  FLUSH  OF  THE  LEAF.          259 

solved  to  sleep  away  the  hours  which  should    inter 
vene  before  the  arrival  of  those  trunks. 

"  If  thou  would'st  ease  thine  heart 
Of  love  and  all  its  smart, 

Then  sleep,  dear,  sleep  ! 

"If  thou  would'st  cure  thine  heart 
Of  love  and  all  its  smart, 

Then  die,  dear,  die  !  " 

But  this  widow — there,  the  secret  is  out ! — this 
widow  resolved  not  to  die,  but  to  live,  and  to  revenge 
herself  gloriously  upon  that  artful  Widow  Dash, 
when  those  trunks  should  arrive. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  widow  slept,  dreaming, 
however,  troubled  dreams. 

The  band  ceased  playing  ;  the  people  strolled  to 
the  various  springs  to  drink  the  waters  with  the 
charm  of  eventide  upon  them ;  the  sun  went  down 
behind  the  hills  ;  the  stars  came '  out  and  glittered 
in  the  sky ;  the  gas-lamps,  which  seemed  to  glow 
with  a  brighter  lustre  than  that  of  the  stars,  were 
all  ablaze — and  when  the  persecuted  widow  finally 
awoke  from  her  troubled  dream,  to  commence  a 
new  series  of  bell-ringings,  and  to  gaze  dolefully  from 
her  window,  she  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  ball 
room  brilliantly  illuminated,  the  fairy  bridge  which 
joined  it  to  the  hotel  gayly  lighted  with  fantastic 


260  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

Chinese  lanterns,  and  over  tins  bridge  the  Widow 
Dash  went  into  the  hop,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of 
Captain  Fickle ! 

And  she  saw  them  ! 

I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  long,  dreary 
hours  of  that  night,  passed  dismally  alone  in  the 
room  of  a  hotel,  while  the  gay  crowds  without  were 
enjoying  themselves  in  various  ways.  It  would  be 
too  harrowing  to  my  own  feelings  and  to  those  of 
my  readers  ;  but  let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  morning 
at  last  dawned  upon  this  terrible  night,  those  trunks 
arrived,  and  about  11  o'clock  in  the  morning  there 
emerged  from  the  room  no  wrinkled  old  woman, 
but  a  comely,  elegantly  dressed  lady,  somewhere  be 
tween  the  age  of  twenty  and  forty — not  older — 
whose  face  was  wreathed  with  smiles,  whose  man 
ner  was  as  placid  and  as  sunny  as  a  June  morning, 
and  who  was  secretly  determined  to  annihilate  the 
Widow  Dash ! 


XXXVI. 

DEPARTURES. 

WHAT  a  mercy  it  would  be  if  the  people  who 
leave  Saratoga  early  in  the  morning  would  only 

"  Fold  their  tents  like  the  Arabs, 
And  as  quietly  steal  away  !  " 

But  no — such  a  bustle  and  confusion  as  there  is  in 
the  adjoining  rooms  and  in  the  hall  every  morning, 
at  the  untimely  hour  of  six,  just  when  one  is  lost  in 
delightful  morning  dreams — the  dreams  which  poets 
call  prophetic.  How  vexatious  to  be  rudely  sum 
moned  from  the  shadowy  land  of  dreams,  to  the 
disagreeable  realities  of  great  lumbering  trunks,  of 
crying  children,  of  loud-voiced  papas,  and  fretful, 
anxious  mammas,  until  really  one  would  imagine 
that  the  Millerites'  judgment  had  come,  and  that 
the  whole  earth  was  on  fire  ! 

And  all  this  because  these  people  are  leaving 
on  the  next  train ! 

If  they  only  could  possibly  remember  that  other 
folks  in  the  same  house  were  not  going  away,  and 


262          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

were  endeavoring  to  enjoy  a  comfortable  nap  after 
the  late  hours  of  the  ball  the  night  before,  how  pleas 
ant  it  would  be. 

Departures,  not  arrivals,  are  now  the  prominent 
features  of  Saratoga — 

"  Friend  after  friend  departs  " — 

and  we,  too,  shall  soon  be  winging  our  flight  home 
ward. 

The  fates  have  decided,  and  we  must  go.  Fitz 
Hugh  resigns  himself  beautifully,  and  strokes  his 
blonde  moustache  complacently,  as  he  talks  of  re 
turning  to  business. 

Now,  that  amuses  me — the  idea  of  Fitz  Hugh,  and 
business ! 

What  does  he  do  with  his  lavender  kids  and  his 
elegant  cane,  when  he  attends  to  business  ? 

Who  takes  care  of  that  "  love  of  a  moustache," 
curls  it,  etc.  ?  Who  is  to  part  those  bewitching  locks 
exactly  in  the  middle,  when  Fitz  Hugh  is  engrossed 
in  the  cares  of  business  ? 

And  where  is  he  to  find  two  hours  every  morning 
to  spend  in  selecting  a  becoming  cravat  and  arrang 
ing  it  in  that  inimitable  tie,  if  he  attends  to  bus 
iness  \- 

Ah;  Fitz  Hugh !  Fitz  Hugh !  who  could  conceive 


DEPARTURES.  263 

the  idea  of  transforming  such  an  elegant  youth  into 
a  hum-drum  man  of  businesss  ? 

We  might  have  started  to-day,  but  Aunt  Prim 
declares  she  must  have  time  to  calm  her  nerves 
after  the  last  new  railroad  horror  before  she  will 
venture  to  set  out. 

Notwithstanding  the  vast  improvements  of  the 
age,  travelling  seems  to  become  more  hazardous  every 
year.  And  one  is  led  to  believe  that  the  old- 
fashioned  stage-coach  which  plodded  slowly  along, 
is  to  be  preferred  to  these  new  vehicles  of  destruc 
tion,  which  hurry  people  out  of  this  world  into  the 
next  without  a  moment's  warning. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Puffy  left  this  morning,  and  Sara 
toga  misses  their  rotund  forms  and  faces  beaming 
with  smiles. 

These  worthy  people  returned  not  long  since  from 
a  tour  in  Europe,  and  Mrs.  Puffy  is  full  of  amusing 
accounts  of  her  mishaps  and  adventures  abroad,  and 
considers  that  she  has  every  reason  to  be  thankful 
that  she  has  arrived  safe  and  sound  upon  her  native 
shore. 

During  her  stay  at  the  Springs  she  has  entertained 
a  host  of  her  dear  friends  every  morning  upon  the 
piazza,  with  ludicrous  descriptions  of  her  trials  and 
sufferings  abroad,  and  one  might  be  ready  to  look 


264:  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

upon  her  as  a  victim  to  martyrdom,  did  not  her 
comfortable  proportions  forbid. 

Mrs.  Puffy  has  brought  home  with  her  many  arti 
cles  of  vertUj  which  she  evidently  considers  as 
dearly  won  trophies.  These  she  is  wont  to  mention 
in  some  such  manner  as  this : 

"  My  dear,  you  know  I  have  purchased  a  beauti 
ful  Venus.  It  is  now  on  its  way  from  Italy.  I 
long  for  you  to  see  it.  It's  a  lovely  thing,  but 
whether  it  is  a  Madonna  or  a  Magdalen,  I  cannot 
say." 

Of  course  we  are  all  on  the  qui  vive  to  behold 
this  wonderful  statue.  Also  to  admire  the  "  sta 
tionery  "  which  Mrs.  Puffy  said  she  purchased  "  to 
put  in  the  nicks  of  the  walls  !  " 

And  Mrs.  Puffy  uttered  her  final  adieu  with  a 
cordial  "  Now,  do  jump  down  and  see  us  !  "  as  the 
train  whirled  her  good-natured  face  out  of  sight. 

The  Widow  Dash  has  disappeared  in  a  blaze  of 
glory,  leaving  behind   her  an  endless  train  of  dis-^ 
consolate  admirers.     Every  one  of  her  magnificent 
dresses   has  been  worn  once,  and,  therefore,  it  was 
time  to  shift  the  scene,  and  to  appear  upon  a  new  • 
stage.     And  so  the  fair  widow,  with  her  pet  dogs, 
her    parrot,   her    maid,   her    coachman,    footman,  \ 
and   elegant  equipages,  to  say  nothing  of  trunks, 


DEPARTURES.  265 

valises,  and  bandboxes  without  number,  has  depart 
ed.  She  has  taken  her  farwell  of  Saratoga,  to 
burst  with  all  her  beauty,  and  magnificence,  upon 
the  astonished  eyes  of  some  other  sphere  in  upper- 
tend  om. 

Our  best  wishes  follow  her !  But  it  is  really  to 
be  hoped,  that,  for  the  benefit  of  all  poor,  timid, 
unmarried  damsels,  the  Widow  Dash  will  be  wedded 
before  next  season ! 

We  had  a  delightful  ride  to-day  to  the  lake. 

While  Madge  arid  the  Colonel  were  making  a 
hideous  racket  rolling  nine-pins,  Fitz  Hugh  and 
I  went  boating  over  the  water  in  search  of  the 
white  lilies.  We  had  a  charming  row.  It  was 
rather  rough,  it  is  true,  and  the  waves  came  spat 
tering  over  the  edges  of  the  boat,  every  now  and 
then — and  the  wind  blew  such  a  gale  that  it  took 
the  frizz  all  out  of  my  hair,  and  then*the  bottom 
of  the  boat  was  wet,  and  I  had  on  thin  shoes  ;  and, 
besides,  Fitz  Hugh  doesn't  exactly  understand  the 
management  of  a  pair  of  oars,  and  I  was  several 
times  inclined  to  "  paddle  my  own  canoe."  Still, 
we  had  a  charming  time,  and  arrived  at  last  in 
safety  at  the  foot  of  a  romantic  mound,  which  has 
the  unromantic  name  of  Snake  Hill.  As  soon  as 

we  heard  the  title  of  this  elevated  piece  of  verdure, 
12 


266  SPARKLES    FROM   SARATOGA. 

we  had  instantaneous  visions  of  creeping  things,  and 
paddled  away  to  gather  lilies  elsewhere. 

When  we  returned,  after  a  long  ramble  through 
the  shady  groves  which  border  the  lake,  we  found 
Miss  Madge  and  the  Colonel  sitting  quiet  enough  on 
the  bank  of  a  trout  pond,  fishing  for  trout. 

A  pretty  pair  of  anglers  they  were — as  if  any 
one  with  both  eyes  open  could  fail  to  see  that  the 
two  were  hooking  for  hearts  ! 

Notwithstanding  that  the  close  of  the  fashionable 
season  is  so  near,  Saratoga  was  never  more  delight 
ful  than  now.  The  weather  is  charming — perfectly 
enjoyable  for  either  driving  or  walking ;  the  roads 
are  free  from  dust,  and  there  is  a  softness  in  the  sky 
which  foretells  the  coming  of  the  autumn. 

Here  and  there  a  single  leaf  may  be  seen  tinted 
with  Autumn's  gold,  or  just  flushing  into  crimson. 

And  thefffe  is  a  little  haze  over  the  hills  in  the 
morning,  through  which  the  rising  sun  kisses  the 
earth  as  through  a  veil.  It  is  strange  that  the 
changing  of  the  leaf  should  send  people  away  in 
throngs  just  when  Nature  is  about  to  don  her  love 
liest  attire,  and  when  the  charm  of  wood  and  plain, 
of  placid  lakes  and  running  streams,  of  mountains 
wrapt  in  mist,  and  hills  clothed  with  ever-varying 
verdure,  lies  sweetest  on  the  earth.  At  no  season  of 


DEPARTURES.  267 

the  year  are  the  drives  around  Saratoga  so  truly  en 
joyable  as  now.  The  fervid  glare  of  the  sun  has 
given  place  to  a  kindlier  glow  which,  bathes  the 
whole  country  in  a  flood  of  golden  light,  enhancing 
the  clear  blue  of  the  sky,  throwing  over  the  distant 
hills  a  blue  ethereal  mist,  and  shedding  a  tranquil 
air  over  the  valleys  and  plains.  To  one  who  is 
weary  of  the  bustle  and  hum  of  life  at  the  crowded 
hotels,  a  pleasant  change  may  be  easily  found  by 
a  drive  out  into  the  open  country,  over  the  pleasant 
roads  which  extend  in  every  direction  from  the 
town.  One  of  these,  which  leads  out  to  a  small 
village,  at  a  distance  of  six  miles,  is  a  favorite 
drive.  It  winds  along  between  bits  of  dark  forests, 
richly  cultivated  fields,  and  large  gardens  filled  with 
flowers,  and  all  the  way  are  scattered  pleasant  rural 
homes,  some  of  them  evincing  both  wealth  and 
taste,  while  many  more  are  the  humble  homes  of 
unpretending  inmates.  But  n,o  matter  how  small 
or  mean  these  simple  dwellings  are,  they  are  all  so 
tidily  kept,  and  have  such  a  neat  and  home-like  air, 
that  one  feels  as  though  it  would  be  a  pleasure 
to  bid  adieu  for  a  little  time  to  the  giddy  whirl  of 
fashion  at  the  hotels,  and  enjoy  the  peace  and  quiet 
of  .a  country  life. 

The   doors    and   windows  of  these  cottages  are 


268  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

almost  always  open,  and  little  pots,  filled  with 
scarlet  geraniums,  or  other  bright-hued  plants,  stand 
upon  -the  low  window-sills  or  near  the  threshold, 
while  over  the  simple  porch  clambers  the  sweet 
honeysuckle  or  the  modest  morning-glory.  And 
then  the  bits  of  green  lawn  spreading  before  the 
houses  are  so  smooth  and  clean,  the  shady  spots 
under  the  old  fruit-trees  are  so  inviting,  that  one 
feels  almost  sick  at  heart  when  remembering  the 
foolish  frivolity  of  life  down  there  in  the  village 
where  the  strife  for  display  goes  ceaselessly  on— 
where  every  day  is  an  endless  round  of  excitement, 
and  every  night  a  whirl  of  dissipation. 

The  belle  of  the  ball-room  at  Saratoga  might 
take  a  profitable  stroll  among  these  little  homes,  and 
learn  from  her  modest  sister  the  charm  of  an  un 
affected  life.  The  Saratoga  wriggle,  the  Droop,  the 
"  Kangaroo  TIop  "  never  flourished  out  here  among 
the  flowers.  These  rural  maidens  have  too  much 
to  do,  to  go  about  listlessly,  with  their  hands  hang 
ing  distractedly  from  their  wrists;  and,  as  for 
powder-boxes,  paint-pots,  rats  and  mice  for  the 
hair,  switches,  false  braids  and  curls,  and  all  the 
endless  paraphernalia  esteemed  necessary  to  make 
up  a  fashionable  toilet — country  girls  are  as  innocent 
of  all  these  as  though  they  never  existed. 


XXXVII. 

THE    ADIRONDACKS. 

EVERY  new  day  of  the  coming  autumn  seems  to 
dawn  with,  some  fresh  beauty,  some  added  glory  of 
nature  to  inspire  and  delight  us,  and  nothing  is 
lacking  to  complete  the  charm  of  Saratoga,  but  the 
people ! 

Ah,  the  people!  Not  that  every  one  has  de 
parted  ;  not  that  the  parlors  and  piazzas  are  utterly 
deserted ;  but  to  see  train  after  train  bearing  hun 
dreds  of  friends  and  strangers  away  every  morning, 
gives  a  dim  foreboding  of  coming  loneliness,  which 
is  not  pleasant  to  contemplate,  and  suggests  the 
dismal  packing  of  one's  trunk,  etc. 

There  are  still  many  people  here.  Those  who 
are  on  their  way  homeward  from  the  North  usually 
take  Saratoga  on  their  route,  and  thus  there  are 
plenty  of  arrivals,  but  the  habitues  of  the  place  are 
nearly  all  gone. 

These  autumn  days  are  truly  perfectly  delightful, 
with  enough  of  sunshine  to  make  everything  look 


270  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

bright,  and  the  air  cool  and  bracing  enough  to  keep 
us  all  in  the  best  of  spirits. 

One  of  the  pleasantest  episodes  of  our  summer 
season  was  a  trip  to  th%  Adirondacks. 

It  being  the  last  day  of  summer  we  were  bent  on 
making;  the  most  of  it — and  saw  the  dear  creature 

o 

depart  in  the  merriest  mood,  with  a  hearty  wish  for 
"  many  returns  of  the  season." 

To  say  nothing  of  the  sparkling  champagne  in 
which  we  quaffed  our  farewell,  we  also  drank 
deep  of  the  nectar  which  fills  Nature's  cup  to  over 
flowing. 

To  have  a  new  and  beautiful  revelation  of  the 
summer's  glory,  on  the  very  eve  of  its  departure, 
was  something  for  which  to  be  devoutly  thankful. 
And  this  revelation  was  our  first  glimpse  of  the 
Adirondacks.  Never  was  the  blue  sky  brighter, 
and  never  looked  the  mountains  grander  or  more 
inviting;  those  in  the  distance  dimly  and  softly 
blue,  those  nearer  by,  covered  with  luxuriant  verd 
ure. 

To  describe  all  the  choice  bits  of  beautiful  scen 
ery  which  presented  themselves  to  our  delighted 
and  wondering  eyes,  as  we  were  whirled  rapidly 
along,  would  be  a  vain  task  to  attempt. 

To    endeavor   to  write   down,   in   commonplace 


THE   ADIRONDACK^.  271 

words,  the  admiration  and  enthusiasm  with  which 
the  glory  of  the  Adirondack  region  inspired  us, 
would  be  like  reducing  one  of  Beethoven's  grand 
symphonies  to  simple  prose.  And  yet,  we  stood 
only  at  the  gates — not  in  the  heart  of  the  moun 
tains.  On  either  side  was  an  ever-changing  pano 
rama  of  beauty — trees  just  tinted  witli  the  fresh 
red  glow  of  autumn  ;  fields  and  waysides  covered 
with  wild  flowers,  a  profusion  of  golden  and  red 
blossoms  flung  with  a  lavish  hand  into  autumn's 
lap,  the  last  gift  of  the  departing  summer;  little 
lakes  without  a  ripple  to  disturb  their  woodland 
dreams  as  they  glistened  in  the  sunlight ;  narrow 
streams  down  which  the  water  came  tumbling  over 
the  rocks  in  angry  rapids,  like  a  human  life  fretting 
itself  away  in  never-ending  turmoil  and  grief  ;  and 
fairy-like  bridges  spanning  the  dark  and  troubled 
waters,  like  that  sweet  hope  of  peace  and  happiness 
hereafter,  which  spans  the  heaven  above  a  troubled 
soul. 

All  this,  and  much  more,  we  saw  with  delighted 
eyes,  and  grafted  upon  our  hearts,  to  live  there,  a 
pleasant  memory  forever. 

And  now  for  the  other  eyes  which  shared  this 
pleasure  with  us. 

First,  we  had  a  special  car  all  to  ourselves.     No 


272  ?        SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

intruders  were  allowed,  although  any  number  of 
rustic  youths  and  maidens,  of  mothers  with  trouble 
some  babies,  of  old  farmers  and  dairy -house  matrons 
came  in  at  the  stations,  and  cast  longing  glances  at 
our  velvet  cushions.  But  all  these  were  respectfully 
informed  that  they  could  "  find  seats  in  the  next  car," 
by  the  awful  Doctor  who  officiated  as  sentinel  at  our 
doors. 

Not  that  the  Doctor  was,  in  himself,  especially 
terrible,  but  that  he  was  undoubtedly  a  perfect  Cer 
berus  to  those  unfortunate  travellers  whom  he 
obliged  to  "  move  on."  As  to  whom  our  party  con 
sisted  of,  we  think  we  had  an  average  share  of  the 
beauty,  wit,  and  talent  now  in  Saratoga. 

There  was  the  humorous  poet,  just  as  handsome 
and  good-natured  as  ever;  there  was  the  famous 
authoress,  whose  charming  jiovels  have  delighted 
homes  of  all  grades,  have  been  read  alike  by 
"Fashion's"  darlings,  and  also1  by  hearths  where 
"  Famine  "  looked  over  the  pages  with  hungry  eyes. 

There  also  was  the  "  Minister  Plenipotentiary  and 
Envoy  Extraordinary  from  Honduras,"  an  extraor 
dinary  man  of  infinite  jest,  to  whom  we  all  owed 
our  thanks  for  our  delightful  trip.  And  with  him 
his  beautiful  wife,  who  presides  so  gracefully  in  the 
editorial  chair  of  the  Lady's  Journal. 


THE   ADIRONDACK^.  273 

And  there  was  the  young  artist  whose  telling 
caricatures  have  caused  "  Honest  Horace  "  to  smile 
more  blandly  than  ever,  and  Grant  to  make  strange, 
wry  faces ;  also,  the  artist's  wife  and  little  ones. 

And  there  was  a  coterie  of  ladies  besides — the 
novelist's  fair  daughter,  the  spirituelle  little  poetess 
with  blue  eyes  and  soft  brown  hair,  the  "  Senti 
nel's  "  wife,  and  the  fair  Louisianian  with  her  hus 
band. 

And  it  will  not  do  to  leave  out  the  handsome 
young  adjutant,  who  kept  us  all  merry  with  his 
songs  and  jokes ;  nor  the  stately  elderly  gentleman, 
with  the  fine  head  and  expressive  eyes,  who  sends 
into  so  many  "  chimney  corners "  throughout  the 
world  his  numerous  periodicals.  And  there  was 
Madge,  and  Aunt  Prim,  and  Fitz  Hugh. 

Last  and  least  of  all  was  Follette,  the  little  dog  of 
the  strawberry-blonde  type  of  beauty,  who  received 
more  attention  than  .anybody  else. 

But  what  is  the  use  of  being  jealous  of  a  little 
dog? 

We  had  an  excellent  dinner  at  the  Adirondack 
House,  to  which  we  were  all  warmly  welcomed  by 
the  Doctor. 

But,  considering  the  amount  of  sandwiches,  boiled 

eggs,  etc.,  etc.,  of  which  we  had  generously  partaken 
12* 


274:  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

while  on  "our  winding  way"  thither,  we  were  not 
alarmingly  hungry.  That  is  to  say,  the  ladies  were 
not  troubled  with  appetites — the  dear  creatures  sel 
dom  are ;  but  the  men  were  as  ravenous  as  ever,  and 
laid  away  such  stores  of  chicken,  brook  trout, 
huckleberry  pies,  etc.,  that  the  only  wonder  is  they 
all  survived  to  reach  home  again. 

But,  all  days  have  an  end,  and  blessed  are  those 
which  glide  away  pleasantly — with  a  halo  of  sunset 
at  the  last. 

So  passed  delightfully  this  last  day  of  the  sum 
mer,  and  all  that  we  have  left  of  it  is  a  cluster  of 
dried  autumn  leaves,  red  and  golden-brown;  a 
bunch  of  faded  flowers  which  we  gathered  among 
the  mountains,  and  a  pleasant  memory  to  which  we 
shall  often  and  fondly  turn  in  the  days  to  coine. 


XXXVIII. 

A  MORNING   KAMBLE. 

WHAT  a  nice  place  to  live  in  this  world  would  be 
if  one  never  had  to  say  Good-by  ! 

Really  it  seems  as  though  we  had  rung  all  the 
changes  possible  upon  that  dear  old  word  during 
the  last  two  weeks,  and  now  we  are  quite  ready  to 
pack  our  trunks  and  turn  our  eyes  longingly  home 
ward.  Saratoga  is  like  a  banquet  hall  deserted. 

There  are  plenty  of  people  here  yet,  but  they  are 
not  those  who  have  lent  a  gayety  to  the  past  season. 
The  fires  are  kindled  in  the  grates,  and  unless  pne 
takes  a  walk  out  in  the  sunshine  to  keep  warm,  there 
is  nothing  left  to  do  except  to  sit  before  the  glowing 
coals  and  call  up  faces  in  the  fire  of  all  those  with 
whom  we  have  spent  happy  hours  during  the  sum 
mer,  of  friends  whom  we  have  just  bidden  a  regretful 
farewell. 

All  the  belles  have  departed,  arid  of  course  the 
beaux  have  followed  their  flitting  footsteps. 

That  some  people  are  glad  to  go  home,  we  cannot 
wonder.  Think  of  the  poor  mothers  and  fathers 


276          SPAKKLES  FROM.  SARATOGA. 

who  have  been  obliged  to  sit  up  night  after  night 
keeping  watch  over  their  daughters,  until  the  wee 
sma'  hours,  while  those  charming  creatures  carried  on 
their  innocent  flirtations ! 

We  know  of  one  old  lady  who  has  almost  lost  her 
eyesight  from  being  obliged  to  wink  and  blink  the 
hours  away  beneath  the  glittering  gaslight,  while  she 
played  duenna  to  a  pretty  flirt,  whose  eyes  are  still 
as  bright  as  diamonds,  and  who  has  entrapped  any 
number  of  hearts,  while  successfully  keeping  her 
own. 

Last  night  we  had  the  final  ball  of  the  season ; 
and  now  the  lights  are  out,  and  the  ball-room 
deserted.  The  music  is  heard  no  more,  and  nothing 
remains  to  lure  or  charm  us ;  nothing  save  a  store  of 
pleasant  memories,  which  cling  around  the  place  like 
the  scent  of  dead  flowers. 

To  rid  ourselves  of  a  feeling  of  gloom,  we  have 
spent  the  morning  in  taking  a  ramble,  in  bidding 
farewell  to  the  favorite  haunts  and  scenes  of  Sara 
toga's  outdoor  life. 

First  among  these  are  the  Springs.  There  is  the 
old  Congress,  to  which,  for  many  long  years,  have 
thronged  the  old  and  the  young,  the  grave  and  the 

gay- 

This  water,  which  has  bubbled  so  freely  for  over 


A  MORNING   RAMBLE.  277 

a  century,  seems  to  have  lost  its  pristine  fire  and 
sparkle,  and  gives  signs  of  dying  away  forever. 

What  countless  scores  of  people  have  drank  at 
this  spring — and  are  now  numbered,  like  dry  leaves, 
among  the  dead  and  gone. 

How  many  have  sought  health  at  this  fountain, 
and  found  it;  how  many  have  drank,  and  turned 
away  to  die ! 

And  now  the  fount  is  growing  less — fading  away 
— a  Lethean  stream  filled  with  the  secref  joys  and 
sorrows  of  the  past. 

Next  comes  the  new  Hathorn  Spring,  fresh  and 
sparkling,  and  full  of  new  life — ready  to  take  the 
place  of  the  old  Congress. 

If  the  latter  spring  represents  to  us  the  waters  of 
Lethe,  in  the  Hathorn  we  find  the  long-sought  foun 
tain  of  perpetual  youth. 

At  the  Washington  Spring,  where  we  go  at  sunset 
to  drink  farewell  to  the  dying  day,  we  find  sweet 
Memory  the  presiding  nymph  of  the  place.  And, 
as  we  lift  the  sparkling  glass  to  our  lips,  with  the 
last  rays  of  the  sun  tinting  the  waters,  we  drink  to 
the  remembrance  of  all  those  with  whom  we  have 
spent  the  happy,  happy  days  just  passed 

For  the  emblem  of  Hope,  one  must  seek  the  Ex 
celsior,  and  a  more  charming  ramble  cannot  be 


278          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

imagined  than  straying  through  the  grand  old  woods 
which  lead  to  this  spring.  Once  entered  upon  this 
shaded  path  in  the  forest,  the  folly  and  bustle  of 
the  world  are  left  behind,  and  a  green  curtain 
falls  softly  between  the  splendor  and  frivolity  of 
fashionable  life,  and  the  silent,  solemn  beauty  of 
nature.  Everything  is  so  full  of  delightful  quiet — 
no  sound  save  the  gentle  murmur  of  the  leaves,  or 
the  soft  twittering  of  the  birds  who  are  pluming  their 
wings  for  flight.  Theio  is  a  soothing  influence  in  the 
very  air  which  floats  around  you,  laden  with  the  rich 
fragrance  of  the  pines ;  in  the  sunlight,  which  falls 
sifted  down  through  the  tall  forest  trees,  and  lies 
beneath  your  feet,  a  thin  haze  of  gold,  over  which  the 
shadows  of  the  leaves  are  forever  gliding. 

Just  half  way  on  your  walk  to  the  spring,  there 
lies  a  miniature  lake  in  the  wood,  smooth  as  glass ; 
a  tiny  mirror  which  Nature  has  left  here,  that  even 
the  forest  trees  may  look  down  and  learn  what  it  is 
to  grow  old ;  for  on  the  brink  of  this  little  lake  stand 
the  grand  old  monarchs  of  the  wood,  spreading  their 
boughs  above  the  water,  and  forever  gazing  upon 
their  own  images  beneath. 

It  is  such  a  little  lake — and  yet  so  full  of  quiet 
beauty ;  and  near  by  is  a  rustic  seat  or  two,  where 
one  may  sit  and  dream  long,  pleasant  hours  away. 


EXCELSIOR    SPRING,     SARATOGA. 


A    MORNING    RAMBLE.  279 

Oil,  were  all  of  life  as  full  ~of  quiet  joy  as  these 
idle,  summer  hours ! 

Leaving  the  Lake,  we  soon  come  to  the  Excelsior 
Spring,  and  as  we  sip  of  its  clear  waters,  it  is  with 
the  hope  that  some  sunny  days  are  yet  in  store  for 
us,  as  happy  as  those  which  have  led  us  thither. 

Retracing  our  steps  through  the  shaded  forest,  a 
little  walk  further  on  brings  us  to  the  well-known 
Indian  Encampment. 

Here  still  sits  the  beautiful  Indian  girl,  who 
realizes  for  us  the  dark  Minnehaha  famed  in  song. 
Her  hair  is  black  and  glossy,  a  deep  color  tinges  her 
olive  cheeks,  and  her  black  eyes  have  a  soft,  dreamy 
look  in  them,  as  she  sits  just  without  the  cabin  door, 
slowly  twining  thin  chips  of  willow  into  fancy  bas 
kets.  Her  name  is  Eunice.  You  may  look  upon 
this  Indian  beauty  and  be  charmed  with  the  naive 
maid  of  the  forest.  But,  as  you  pass  on,  the 
swarthy,  ugly  features  of  the  elderly  women,  and 
the  homeliness  of  the  men,  soon  break  the  spell. 

These  Indians  live  in  little  huts  which  consist  of 
but  one  room,  and  here  they  eat,  sleep,  and  pass 
the  humblest  lives  with  an  air  of  supreme  content. 
Before  each  door  stands  a  little  table  covered  with 
specimens  of  their  industry,  beadwork,  baskets, 
canoes,  bows  and  arrows,  etc.,  etc. 


280  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

When  the  late  frosts  come,  the  Indians  pack  up 
their  worldly  treasures,  and,  deserting  their  tem 
porary  homes,  hie  away  to  their  native  wigwams  in 
the  far  North. 

There  are  two  Indian  seers  at  the  encampment, 
and  many  a  fair  belle  and  anxious  lover  have  sought 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Destiny's  page  by  crossing 
the  dark  hands  of  the  Indian  fortune-teller  with 
silver. 

Leaving  the  Indian  encampment,  we  enter  the 
grand  old  Park  once  more,  to  take  our  last  stroll 
through  its  shady  groves.  And  so  we  wend  our 
way  back  to  the  hotel,  satisfied  that  a  ramble 
through  the  woods  upon  a  crisp  autumn  morning,  is 
by  far  more  enjoyable,  and  more  exhilarating  to  the 
spirits,  than  hovering  around  the  fire,  wrapped  in 
shawls,  and  complaining  of  the  early  arrival  of  the 
last  comer  to  Saratoga — Jack  Frost. 

One  should  have  plenty  of  leisurej  and  but  little 
of  the  world's  cares  or  sorrows  upon  the  mind,  to 
truly  enjoy  a  walk. 

And  then  an  artist's  loving  eye  and  a  poet's  ap 
preciative  soul  are  needed  to  take  in  all  the  beauties 
which  Nature  strews  around  us.  There  are  the  green 
leaves  which  the  parting  kiss  of  summer  has  flushed 
into  crimson ;  the  twittering  birds  who  are  plan- 


A    MORNING   KAMBLE.  281 

ning  their  journeys  southward,  and  singing  their 
farewell  songs  in  a  plaintive  tone ;  the  brown-eyed 
deer,  which  are  so  tame  they  half  meet  yonr  caress 
in  the  graceful  arching  of  their  necks ;  the  little 
brown  squirrels  which  cross  the  path  close  to  your 
feet,  and  then  sitting  upright  on  the  grass  near  by, 
peer  curiously  at  you  ;  the  white  mists  which  hover 
over  the  hill-tops,  and  the  warm  golden  beams  of 
the  sun  which  gradually  absorb  them  ;  the  majesty 
of  distant  mountains ;  the  quiet  peace  of  the  val 
leys  ;  the  glistening  of  sparkling  waters  that  lie  in 
the  sunlight,  and  the  musical  babble  of  the  brook 
that  glides  through  the  shady  places,  and  over  all 
these  the  white  clouds  drifting  across  an  infinite  sea 
of  azure — who  that  rambles  along  and  takes  not  in 
all  these  varied  charms  of  Nature  with  a  lover's  eye 
enjoys  the  passing  hour  to  its  full  extent  ? 


XXXIX. 

ADIEUX. 

AUNT  PEIM  mildly  suggested  this  morning  that 
we  had  better  pack  our  trunks  for  home. 

We  were  quite  ready  to  yield  compliance.  "We 
have  gone  to  the  bottom  of  these  trunks  so  often 
during  the  summer  season  that  we  are  really  growing 
tired  of  them,  and,  womanlike,  begin  to  long  for 
something  new. 

And  no  wonder !  For  such  a.  bewilderment  of 
draggled  silks,  rumpled  muslins,  and  dingy  laces 
never  set  out  on  a  homeward  journey  before. 

Madge  says  the  very  idea  of  being  at  home  once 
more  is  delightful. 

She  is  tired  to  death  of  frizzing  her  hair  every 
day  for  two  long  months,  and  declares  that  should 
she  remain  much  longer  she  should  die  of  the 
crimp ! 

And  then  it  is  so  tiresome  to  be  obliged  to  array 
one's  self  in  full  dress  every  evening,  when  one  feels 
much  more  like  being  at  home  curled  up  in  an  easy 
chair  and  taking  a  nap. 


ADIEUX.  283 

It  seems  such  a  very  long  time  since  Madge  and 
I  had  the  privilege  of  closing  our  eyes  in  sleep  be 
fore  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Even  Miss  Airs  is  a  little  oppressed  with  ennui 
after  such  a  continued  whirl  of  excitement,  and  was 
heard  to  remark  tnat  she  intended  to  luxuriate  for 
the  next  month  at  home  in  loose  sacques  and  old 
slippers,  and  to  do  nothing  but  read  the  most  sensa 
tional  novels — real  love  and  murder  plots. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  poor  thing  is  tired,  after 
such  an  arduous  summer  as  she  has  passed. 

To  think  of  the  square-inch  of  embroidery  she 
has  accomplished  upon  the  canvas,  which  afforded 
her  afternoon  employment ;  the  half  page  of 
French  she  has  meandered  through  by  way  of  dis 
ciplining  her  mind ;  the  perplexing  study  of  intri 
cate  toilettes  to  which  she  has  devoted  herself,  and 
the  wearisome  hours  she  has  passed  in  front  of  her 
mirror  before  she  emerged  from  her  room  to  daz 
zle  an  admiring  world  ! 

What  a  happy  creature  the  butterfly  is,  who  is 
always  gorgeously  arrayed,  with  no  dress-makers' 
bills  to  pay,  no  hair-dressers'  torments  to  endure, 
and  no  stupid,  lumbering  trunks  to  pack  and 
unpack,  as  she  wings  her  flight  from  one  place  to 
another ! 


284  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

The  penalty  of  being  upon  one's  best  behavior  for 
a  long  season  is  too  much  for  Madge.  To  be  under 
the  scrutinizing,  critical  eyes  of  the  world  every  day 
from  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  after  mid 
night — to  be  obliged  to  look  just  so — to  dress  just 
so — to  walk,  and  dance,  and  talk  just  so — to  live 
without  the  seclusion  of  home  in  the  midst  of  an 
idle,  curious,  fashionable  world,  for  any  lengthened 
period  of  time,  is  too  much  to  he  borne  with  com 
placency  by  one  so  averse  to  COK  ventionalities  as  is 
Madge. 

And  so,  although  the  summer  has  passed  delight 
fully,  almost  like  a  dream,  with  its  ceaseless  round 
of  pleasures,  its  music,  its  flowers,  its  singing  birds, 
its  sunshine  and  its  bits  of  shade — all  blending 
together  to  form  one  charming  whole — still  we  are 
content,  and  even  glad  to  turn  our  thoughts  home 
ward  again.  For,  after  all,  as  the  old  song  has  it, 
"  There's  no  place  like  home." 

Saratoga  just  now  is  like  a  glass  of  champagne, 
which  has  lost  all  its  life  and  sparkle. 

Every  cool  morning  is  the  signal  for  a  new  army 
of  departures.  The  daily  scene  at  the  depot  just 
before  the  train  leaves  has  come  to  be  really  affect 
ing  to  sensitive  nerves.  Such  hand-shaking ;  such 
fond  embracing,  such  whispered  adieux  and  oft- 


ADIEUX.  285 

reiterated  farewells,  and  all  this  without  a  single 
tear  to  moisten  the  parting  moment — is  really 
heart-rending.  And  then  when  the  train  is  fairly 
off,  to  hear  the  comments  of  those  who  remain 
behind,  upon  the  dear  just-departed ;  this  also  is 
heart-rending  !  Saratoga  friendships  are  soon  made, 
soon  broken,  and  parting  seems  to  bring  no  pang. 

But  there  stands  that  great  Saratoga  trunk,  with 
its  lid  up,  yawning  to  receive  our  dilapidated  ward 
robes.  I  wonder  if  that  trunk  is  tired  of  its  Sara 
toga  season,  and  longs  to  be  at  home  again. 

And,  as  I  look  upon  it,  I  imagine  that  every 
brass-headed  nail  in  the  dear  old  creature  shines 
with  very  glee  at  the  mere  idea  of  home. 

It  is  willing  to  endure  the  martyrdom  of  in 
numerable  bangs  and  thumps,  to  be  pitched  and 
whirled  about  by  porters  and  baggage-men,  that  it 
may  find  its  way  at  last  to  its  old  familiar  corner — 
at  home ! 

It  promises,  moreover,  to  sacredly  guard  every 
secret  committed  to  its  keeping ;  for  that  trunk  is 
destined  to  carry  something  more  than  a  lot  of 
dresses  and  other  articles  pertaining  to  a  lady's 
wardrobe. 

There  are  the  trophies  of  the  season  to  be  stowed 
away  in  its  capacious  boxes.  Sonnets  by  young 


286  SPARKLES   FEOM   SARATOGA. 

Limbernap — gushing  things  which  never  fail  to 
send  Madge  into  spasms  of  laughter — bundles  of 
tenderly  indited  epistles  from  conceited  adorers, 
who  will  never  love  any  one  so  much  as  their  own 
dear  selves — which  it  is  just  as  well  to  keep  from 
Aunt  Prim's  vigilant  eye ;  Fitz  Hugh's  picture, 
taken  in  his  most  charming  mood  and  attitude,  etc., 
etc. 

These  are  some  of  the  "  sundries "  to  be  con 
signed  to  the  safe-keeping  of  that  trunk.  I  wish  it 
bon  voyage  with  all  my  heart.  We  are  promised  a 
brief  visit  to  Lake  George  before  fairly  turning  our 
faces  homeward,  a  possible  trip  to  Niagara  Falls,  and 
a  few  days  at  West  Point  as  we  go  down  the  river— - 
where,  of  course,  Madge  expects  to  lay  siege  to  the 
heart  of  every  handsome  cadet  in  uniform  ! 

And  so,  adieu  to  Saratoga. 

The  memory  of  its  bright  weeks  will  cast  a  glow 
of  sunshine  far  into  the  coming  winter.  The  new 
found  friends  we  have  made,  the  eyes  that  have 
looked  kindly  upon  us,  the  hands  that  have  warmly 
clasped  our  own,  fancy  will  often  bring  back  to  us 
again,  until  another  summer  shall  bring  them  in 
reality. 


XL. 

LAKE    GEORGE. 

are  rusticating  at  Lake  George.  Really  rus 
ticating  !  We  have  resigned,  with  a  little  half-sigh, 
the  fascinations  of  Saratoga,  and  have  settled  down 
for  a  few  days  of  quiet  on  the  banks  of  this  lovely 
lake.  We  left  our  worthy  President  with  his 
family  at  Saratoga.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  poor 
man  will  have  a  sudden  attack  of  lockjaw  superin 
duced  by  the  excessive  squeezing  and  shaking  of 
hands  Avhich  he  undergoes.  Perhaps  this  .is  the 
reason  he  is  always  so  quiet 

How  can  a  man  talk,  I  should  like  to  know, 
whose  right  arm  is  the  embodiment  of  perpetual 
motion  ?  What  would  he  do  if  the  French  fashion 
of  kissing  prevailed  among  us  ?  Surely  he  would 
be  actually  smothered,  by  the  embraces  of  the 
Goldbugs,  the  Money-Bags,  the  Petroleumites,  the 
Shoddyites,  and  others  of  that  ilk,  who  swarm  con 
tinually  around  him,  like  so  many  bees  hunting  for 
sweets !  And  the  ladies,  too,  would  claim  their 
rights,  and  the  hero  of  many  battles  would  be  van- 


288          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

quislied  at  last.  It  is  but  a  short  journey  from 
Saratoga  here.  You  take  the  train  at  the  Springs 
for  Glen's  Falls,  which  is  a  romantic,  sequestered- 
looking  place,  and  is  but  an  hour's  ride. 

Arrived  at  Glen's  Falls,,  you  are  mercilessly 
tumbled  into  a  huge  stage-coach,  without  even  the 
preliminary  caution  of  "  this  side  up  with  care ! " 
They  are  always  in  a  hurry  in  filling  up  this  stage. 
They  are  as  much  afraid  of  losing  an  atom  of  time, 
as  they  are  of  losing  an  atom  of  space  either  inside 
or  outside  of  that  coach. 

The  mathematical  genius  who  presides  at  the 
stage  door,  to  attend  to  the  bestowal  of  passen 
gers  therein,  takes  your  exact  dimensions  as  you 
approach,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  places 
you  instantly  in  a  corner  which  you  seem  to 
fit  exactly,  without  having  an  extra  inch  of  spare 
room.  Bundles  and  leather  bags,  umbrellas,  para 
sols,  .  and  baskets,  are,  as  a  matter  of  necessity, 
piled  up  on  each  individual's  lap,  and  then,  when 
the  coach  is  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity  with  men, 
women,  and  children,  lap-dogs,  and  other  baggage — 
all  packed  in  like  so  many  chickens  in  a  coop,  with 
not  even  room  to  flutter  one's  feathers — you  are 
invited,  and  expected,  by  the  smiling  stage-driver,  to 
admire  the  scenery. 


LAKE   GEORGE.  289 

That  driver  has  a  sarcastic  expression  in  the 
twinkle  of  his  eye,  although  his  face  smiles  blandly 
upon  you,  as  he  extends  this  invitation,  and  witnesses 
your  spasmodic  endeavors  to  peep  out  from  the 
labyrinth  of  people,  leather  bags,  and  parasols,  to 
view  the  scenery!  And  just  at  that  identical 
moment,  when  you  have  brought  your  optical  organs 
into  the  line  of  taking  a  "  bird's-eye "  view  of  the 
surrounding  country,  that  driver  contrives  to  nearly 
upset  the  stage  in  some  terrific  mud-hole,  and  you 
forget  scenery,  passengers;  propriety,  and  everything 
else,  to  scream  out  with  affright.  At  least  "  yours 
truly "  did,  and  Aunt  Prim  gave  me  a  vigorous 
thrust  with  her  parasol,  by  way  of  restoring  my  self- 
possession  ! 

But  who  wants  to  be  upset  in  a  mud-hole !  Surely 
there  is  nothing  romantic  or  consoling  to  one's  feel- 

O  O 

ings  in  such  an  event. 

Perhaps  the  best  place  in  the  world  to  ascertain 
the  amount  of  one's  self-possession  under  the  most 
trying  circumstances,  is  in  a  stage-coach  journeying 
over  an  uneven,  hilly  road.  Even  Aunt  Prim  was 
startled  out  of  her  rigorous  sense  of  propriety,  and 
grasped  suddenly  hold  of  a  fat  old  gentleman  who 
sat  next  to  her,  as  the  stage  gave  a  lurch  forward. 

Failing    to    catch    satisfactory  glimpses   of    the 
13 


290  SPAKKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

scenery,  we  devoted  our  attention  to  a  worthy  couple 
who  sat  vis-d-vis  to  us  in  the  stage.  They  were  a 
bride  and  bridegroom,  evidently  on  their  wedding 
tour.  The  groom  was  certainly  fifty-five.  No 
widower  twice  taken  in  by  a  woman's  wiles  was  he, 
but  a  whimsical,  fussy  old  bachelor,  fairly  en 
trapped  !  We  ransacked  our  brains  for  a  reason,  but 
for  the  life  of  us,  we  could  not  see  why  the  bride 
should  have  taken  the  trouble  to  bait  for  him  !  But 
tastes  differ.  The  bride  was  about  forty,  and  two 
months  ago,  would  have  been  called  a  vinegar-faced 
old  maid.  Tall,  thin,  and  angular,  she  was  the  per 
sonification  of  female  prudence  and  propriety.  We 
were  fairly  started  on  our  way  when  this  interesting 
couple  commenced  the  following  conversation : 

"  Elihu,"  said  the  bride,  "  I  know  they  have  got 
my  trunk  upside  down  !  " 

"  Shouldn't  wonder ;  but  no  harm'll  come  to  the 
c  fixings  '  I  reckon,"  placidly  returned  Elihu. 

"  No  harm  ?  "  ejaculated  the  bride,  opening  her 
eyes  wide  with  astonishment  at  such  indifference. 
But  she  was  too  indignant  to  say  more.  "  Susan, 
have  you  got  those  tickets  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Susan,  holding  up  her  hand,  where 
the  tickets  were  thrust  inside  of  a  cotton  glove. 

"  Well,  don't  lose  them  !     And  the  check  for  the 


LAKE    GEOKGE.  291 

valise,  have  you  got  that  ? "  asked  Elihu,  anxiously. 
The  check  also  was  shown  tucked  away  in  the 
glove. 

"  I  wish  I  had  brought  my  thick  coat  with  me," 
said  Elihu. 

"  Why,  are  you  cold  ?  " 

"  No,  but  it  might  be  cold  afore  night."  We  may 
here  as  well  remark  that  the  day,  especially  inside 
of  the  coach,  was  suffocatingly  hot. 

"  Susan,  have  you  got  the  big  umbrella  ? " 

"  Yes,"  meekly  replied  Susan. 

"  And  the  little  one  ? "  pursued  Elihu,  with  an 
air  of  increased  anxiety. 

Here  Fitz  Hugh  burst  into  a  laugh,  but  as  pro 
priety  must  be  observed  even  under  the  most  perverse 
circumstances,  I  had  to  give  him  a  warning  pinch  to 
keep  still. 

"  Susan,  have  you  got  those  tickets  ? "  asked  the 
husband  the  second  time.  The  tickets  being  again 
produced  for  his  satisfaction,  he  again  enjoined  her 
"  not  to  lose  them  !  " 

"  I  wish  that  I  had  brought  my  thin  coat,  and  my 
straw  hat.  The  sun.  looks  pretty  hot  out  there — 
and  I  could  just  as  well  as  not  have  put  them  in  my 
pocket ! " 

And  here  Elihu  began  to  search  in  his  pockets, 


292          SPARKLES  FKOM  SARATOGA. 

as  though  with  a  vague  hope  of  finding  a  stray  hat  or 
coat  tucked  away  in  their  recesses.  Suddenly  a  look 
of  blank  dismay  spread  over  his  face,  as  he  produced 
a  roll  of  coarse  wire  from  his  pocket,  and  exclaimed, 
in  the  greatest  consternation, 

"  Merciful  Heavens  !  Jehosophat !  If  I  haven't 
brought  away  the  wire  the  men  were  to  lay  them  ar 
pipes  with  !  And  if  I  should  happen  to  die  before 
I  get  back,  them  ar  pipes  never  would  be  laid 
right ! " 

Here  Madge  burst  into  a  little  ripple  of  laughter ; 
while  the  poor  bride  looked  becomingly  disconsolate, 
either  at  the  prospect  of  such  a  sudden  demise  of 
her  new  husband,  or  at  the  perplexing  dilemma 
of  "  them  ar  pipes  " — it  was  impossible  to  tell  which 
—while  her  better  half,  also  ludicrously  mournful, 
solaced  himself  with  eating  peanuts. 

Those  nine  terrible  miles  being  at  last  traversed, 
we  alighted,  and  the  last  we  heard  of  this  worthy 
couple  as  they  moved  away,  was — 

"  Susan,  have  you  got  those  tickets  ?  "  and  "  don't 
lose  them!"  ejaculated  with  greater  emphasis  than 
ever.  Dear !  dear !  what  would  have  happened  if 
Susan  had  lost  those  tickets  ! 

But,  as  all  troubles  are  destined  some  time  to  find  an 
end,  here  we  are,  safe  and  sound,  with  our  "  Saratoga 


LAKE    GEORGE.  293 

trunks  "  unpacked,  and  ready  for  any  emergency, 
whether  it  be  a  hop  or  a  ball,  a  moonlight  row  upon 
the  lake  with  Fitz  Hugh,  or  an  intellectual  skirmish 
with  some  of  the  wise  Boston  youths  who  are  here. 
For,  having  bid  adieu  to  the  fashionable  frivolities  of 
New  York  society,  we  find  ourselves  suddenly  in  a 
new  atmosphere,  being  surrounded  by  the  dignified 
propriety,  the  ostentatious  wisdom,  and  the  mar 
vellous  egotism  of  the  people  from  "  the  Hub  "  ! 

It  does  not  follow,  necessarily,  that  all  Bostonians 
are  conceited,  but  they  are  all  equally  vain  of  the 
one  essential  fact  of  their  being  Bostonians. 

Ah  !  why,  alas  !  did  I  ever  breathe,  since  my  first 
breath  was  not  inhaled  in  the  divine  air  which  floats 
over  Boston  Common !  What  right  have  I  to  be 
proud  of  Bunker  Hill,  or  its  monument  either, 
since  I  am  not  a  Bostonian  ?  What  music  have  my 
ears  ever  listened  to  worth  hearing,  since  they  have 
never  been  enchanted  by  Boston's  wonderful  organ ! 
In  fact,  who  can  expect  to  be  either  famous,  or  wise, 
if  he  does  not  hail  from  the  modern  Athens  ?  Alas  ! 
and  alas !  for  the  people  doomed  to  sit  upon  the 
spokes  which  whirl  around  the  immaculate  "  Hub  " ! 

But  some  day  we  may  be  tempted  to  throw  down 
the  gauntlet,  and  with  true  Knickerbocker  spirit,  de 
fend  the  claims  of  Manhattan  Islanders  for  supe- 


294         SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

riority,  for  pre-eminence,  and  pre-excellence  over 
these  deluded,  egotistical  Bostonians.  But  we  haven't 
time  now.  In  just  one  hour  we  are  going  to  have 
a  little  regatta  upon  the  lake  with  Fitz  Hugh.  Fitz 
Hugh  in  one  boat,  and  Madge  and  I  in  the  other. 
"We  are  learning  to  handle  the  oars,  and  can  pull  a 
stroke  with  Fitz  Hugh  any  day.  Madge  says  that 
she  is  afraid  of  becoming  a  blue-light,  from  daily 
contact  with  the  Boston  wiseacres  and  blue-stockings. 

And  she  further  avers,  that  she  is  going  to  make 
a  psychological  examination  of  one  of  these  Boston 
youths,  to  learn  whether  they  are  afraid  of  "  learned  " 
women !  I  should  like  to  hear  Madge  play  the  part 
of  a  bas  bleu.  Whatever  she  undertakes  she  usually 
carries  to  perfection,  and  she  did  once  frighten  away 
a  frantic  adorer  by  pretending  to  be  given  to  dab 
bling  in  literature,  and  by  overwhelming  him  with 
learned  discourses  from  her  pedantic  tongue. 

Poor  fellow !  he  has  looked  blue  from  his  fright 
ever  since,  and  doubtless  is  still  congratulating 
himself  that  he  has  narrowly  escaped  the  martyrdom 
of  having  a  literary  wife ! 

It  is  curious  to  notice  the  views  of  the  lords  of 
creation  in  regard  to  choosing  a  wife. 

They  expect  every  woman  to  be  an  infallible 
housekeeper. 


LAKE   GEORGE.  295 

They  seem  to  think  that  every  mental  devel 
opment  robs  a  woman  of  some  part  of  her  affectional 
nature— that  a  great  soul  indicates  a  small  heart. 

Ah,  well !  Men  are  apt  to  grow  wiser  and  sadder 
as  they  grow  older.  They  begin  to  find  that  some 
thing  else  beside  a  pretty  face  and  a  good  house 
keeper  is  necessary  to  make  home  happy,  and  look 
back  regretfully  to  the  time  when  they  failed  to 
choose  a  companion,  in  choosing  a  wife. 

A  distinguished  man  said  to  me  not  long  ago  that, 
when  he  married,  he  "  did  not  want  to  marry  a 
woman  who  knew  too  much  !  "  After  he  had  been 
engaged  in  mental  labor,  speech-making  all  day, 
when  he  came  home  at  night  he  didn't  want  his  wife 
to  talk  to  him  ;  but  while  he  rested  himself,  she 
was  to  fan  off  the  flies ! 

JSTow,  isn't  that  a  splendid  idea  of  the  utility  of  a 
wife? 

I  hope  when  that  man  finds  his  ideal  spouse,  that 
she  will  lure  all  the  flies  and  bumble-bees  in  the 
neighborhood  into  the  room,  where  he  seats  himself 
— and  then  fan  herself  instead  of  him  ! 

Does  man's  selfishness  deserve  anything  bet 
ter? 

To-morrow  we  are  to  sail  down  the  lake  to  visit 
old  "Fort  Ti,"  and  this  afternoon  we  are  to  go 


296  SPAKKLES   FKOM   SARATOGA. 

"  a-gyPsy*n& "  in  the  wo°ds.     But  Madge  says  it  is 
time  for  our  regatta — and  Fitz  Hugh  is  waiting. 

"My  skiff  is  by  the  shore;" 

I  throw  aside  my  quill 
To  ply  the  feathered  oar ! 


XLI. 

FORT  TICONDEROGA. 

THE  people  who  come  to  Lake  George  to  spend  a 
few  weeks,  evidently  do  so  with  the  full  intention 
of  enjoying  themselves.  There  is  less  formality 
here  than  at  Saratoga,  and  much  less  display  in  the 
way  of  dress.  Long  rambles  in  the  delightful  woods, 
which  are  so  near  by,  and  rowing  out  upon  the  lake, 
are  quite  unfavorable  to  an  elegant  toilet,  and, 
therefore,  the  simplest  costumes  are  preferred. 

These  do  very  well  for  youth  and  beauty  to  ap 
pear  in,  for  youth  and  beauty  are  charming  in  any 
guise,  and  go  far  to  prove  the  truth  of  the  old  adage 
that  "  Beauty  unadorned's  adorned  the  most."  But 
then,  every  one  cannot  be  young  and  beautiful,  and 
I  have  noticed  that  ladies  whose  complexions 
require  particular  care  cannot  be  induced  to  vent 
ure  upon  the  water  in  a  boat.  They  are  all  afflicted 
with  nervousness  at  the  mere  mention  of  such  a 

<% 

thing,  and  I  fancy  they  are  quite  right  in  preferring 
to  remain  on  dry  land,  since  a  few  splashes  of  cold 
water  would  be  extremely  detrimental  to  paint  and 

powder ! 
13* 


298         SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

The  Widower  Pomfret  has  arrived  here  from 
Saratoga  with  his  two  sons  and  five  daughters.  It 
is  something  to  be  thankful  for,  that  these  daughters 
are  all  of  a  marriageable  age !  I  say  this  because 
Aunt  Prim  seems  to  fancy  this  grim  widower.  Dear 
old  Bachelor  Grumpy,  with  all  his  funny  ways,  is 
surely  far  preferable  to  a  widower  with  two  sons  and 
five  daughters.  Goodness  !  What  an  addition  that 
would  be  to  our  family !  What  woman  in  her 
senses  would  undertake  to  marry  off  five  daughters  f 
I  have  represented  this  to  Aunt  Prim  in  the  most 
pathetic  tones. 

Poor  dears !  It  is  quite  impossible  to  find,  in  one 
short  season,  five  proper,  nice  young  men,  to  pro 
vide  for  these  poor  little  Pomf rets. 

In  contemplating  this  fact,  we  cannot  help  think 
ing  what  an  advantage  it  would  be,  if  women  could 
only  take  care  of  themselves.  This  looking  forward 
of  a  young  girl,  in  quest  of  some  stray  specimen  of 
the  genus  homo  who  may  chance  her  way,  arid  upon 
whom  she  is  to  depend  for  her  very  existence,  for 
every  morsel  that  she  eats,  and  every  shred  that  she 
wears,  and  whose  ipse  dixit  is  to  be  the  infallible 
guide  and  rule  of  her  life,  is  a  popular  fallacy  which 
has  held  sway  too  long.  And  it  is  a  fallacy,  which, 
although  even  now  being  discussed  and  agitated,  still 


FOKT  TICONDEEOGA.  299 

holds  its  place,  like  those  great  rocking-stones  which 
you  may  easily  move  with  your  little  finger,  al 
though  human  strength  is  unable  to  lift  them  from 
their  places !  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  time  will 
change  all  this.  For  man-kind  as  a  race  are  ex 
tremely  unreliable.  If  the  same  can  be  truly  said 
of  women,  I  should  like  to  know  if  it  is  their  fault  ? 
"Who  ever  taught  them  to  rely  upon  themselves? 
I  do  wish  that  one  of  these  numerous  Pomfrets 
would  succeed  in  capturing  alive  one  of  the  Boston 
beaux  who  flourish  here.  It  would  do  my  heart 
good  to  see  one  of  these  straight-laced,  sombre  in 
dividuals,  who  seem  to  dwell  perpetually  in  cloud- 
land  (that  is,  when  they  are  out  of  Boston),  brought 
low  to  terra  firma  by  the  wiles  of  a  woman,  and 
that  woman  born  out  of  Massachusetts ! 

These  gentlemen  from  the  "  Hub  "  are  the  quiet 
est,  demurest-looking  youths  you  ever  saw.  They 
have  about  them  such  an  air  of  unlimited  wisdom, 
of  conscious  superiority,  that  Madge  says  she  does 
not  utter  a  word  in  their  presence,  for  fear  of  being 
devoured  in  a  moment.  They  always  appear  as  if 
just  about  to  open  their  lips  with  wise  Latin  saws  or 
Greek  homilies  against  the  frivolities  of  the  pres 
ent  age.  They  live  so  enveloped  in  the  fog  of  Bos 
ton  Harbor,  that  they  see  the  rest  of  the  world 
through  a  mist!  Not  a  hair  of  their  heads  is 


300  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

allowed  to  curl,  or  to  stand  upright ;  their  eyebrows 
are  never  disarranged, — but  lie  as  placid  and 
unruffled  as  the  blue  waters  of  the  lake  ;  even  their 
eyelashes  move  with  precision,  and  the  eyes  beneath 
them  are  generally  of  a  cold  steel-gray. 

Their  toilette  is  scrupulously  neat  and  precise ;  in 
fact,  all  is  sleek  and  slender,  proper  even  to  the 
excess  of  propriety — and  all  emphatically  Bos- 
tonian. 

Dear  me !  It  quite  takes  away  one's  breath  to 
gaze  long  at  these  immaculate  specimens  of  human 
ity,  and  it  is  really  refreshing  to  one's  heart  and 
mind  to  steal  a  long  glance  at  Fitz  Hugh  after  con 
templating  these  frost-bitten  youths  from  Boston 
Harbor  !  Madge  says  she  shall  never  lose  her  heart 
in  the  atmosphere  which  surrounds  them.  It  is  too 
frigid. 

We  had  a  charming  sail  yesterday  to  visit  old 
"  Fort  Ti."  Our  party  consisted  of  Aunt  Prim, 
escorted  by  the  assiduous  Mr.  Pomfret,  the  family 
retinue  of  Pomfrets  followed  of  course,  Madge,  Fitz 
Hugh,  and  two  pretty  Boston  belles,  the  latter  being 
attended  by  two  clear-starched  "  Hub  "  exquisites, 
who  corrected  their  bad  Latin,  and  matronized 
them  generally. 

It  was  a  splendid  morning,  and  the  water  of  the 


FOKT    TICONDEKOGA.  301 

lake  had  never  seemed  so  blue,  as  it  threw  up 
little  waves  to  catch  the  warm  sunbeams  and 
reflected  the  golden  light  again  and  again. 

Over  the  distant  banks  and  over  the  beautiful 
islands  hung  the  white  mists — the  tears  which  night 
had  left  upon  the  face  of  Nature,  and  which  the  sun 
had  not  yet  kissed  away. 

Sailing  down  Lake  George  on  a.  morning  like  this 
was  like  floating  over  the  waters  of  some  enchanted 
land,  and  we  half  expected  to  see  the  fair  forms  of 
mermaids  rising  above  the  deep,  and  to  hear  the 
singing  of  sirens  among  the  fairy-like  islands. 

But  Aunt  Prim  quickly  dispelled  all  such  fanciful 
illusions,  and  brought  us  suddenly  back  to  the  cold 
world  by  remarking  that  she  thought  they  ought 
to  cut  down  "  all  the  trees  upon  those  useless 
islands  "  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor !  I  should  like 
to  see  the  land  which  was  enchanting  enough  to 
awaken  Aunt  Prim's  enthusiasm. 

In  olden  times  this  beautiful  lake  was  called 
"  Lac  Sacrement,"  probably  from  the  purity  of  its 
waters. 

All  over  its  clear  bosom  are  scattered  beautiful 
islands,  which  lie  as  placid  and  still  as  a  quiet  dream 
beneath  the  bending  sky. 

Among  these,  Dome  Island  is  considered  to  be 


302  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

the  most  beautiful.  Here  it  was  that,  in  revolution 
ary  times,  General  Putnam  effectually  concealed  his 
men  while  he  held  his  conference  with  General 
Webb. 

What  would  "Old  Put"  have  done  if  some 
benevolent  lady  like  Aunt  Prim  had  had  those  trees 
cut  down  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor? 

Arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  lake  we  left  the  steamer 
and  renewed  our  troubles  in  a  stage  by  riding  four 
miles  to  reach  the  fort. 

But  we  forgot  in  a  measure  our  feminine  fears 
while  passing  over  this  hallowed  ground,  every  foot 
of  which  is  replete  with  historical  interest. 

Of  course  the  usual  Demosthenes  of  Ticonderoga 
accompanied  us,  and  we  made  ourselves  merry  over 
his  carefully  delivered  oration.  lie  pointed  out  to 
us  the  scene  of  many  a  bloody  contest  as  we  drove 
over  the  sacred  soil — he  brought  before  us,  in  a 
vivid  picture,  the  gallant  Green  Mountain  Boys, 
who  with  the  brave  Ethan  Allen  marched  upon 
Fort  Ticonderoga,  and  demanded  its  surrender,  in 
the  name  of  the  "  Great  Jehovah  and  the  Continen 
tal  Congress  ! "  And  all  these,  who  fought  and  bled 
so  long  ago  in  freedom's  cause,  have  rested  upon 
their  laurels  and  slept  in  the  silent  tomb  for  a  hun 
dred  years.  The  old  fort  is  in  a  sad  state  of  neglect ; 


FORT   TICONDEROGA.  303 

and  instead  of  its  stones  being  regarded  as  sacred 

O  O 

relics,  the  neighboring  farmers  carry  them  away  to 
build  fences  with ! 

Would  it  not  be  a  good  speculation  for  some  "  live 
Yankee"  to  buy  up  these  mementoes  of  the  past, 
and  to  transmit  them  to  his  children's  children, 
until  our  country,  now  so  fresh  and  young,  has  grown 
old,  and  the  relics  of  her  youth  shall  have  become  of 
priceless  value  ?  For  time,  which  covers  the  dead 
oak  with  ivy,  also  flings  over  the  -dead  past  the  veil 
of  affection  and  of  reverential  awe. 

The  sail  up  the  lake,  returning  homeward,  to  Fort 
"William  Henry,  was  a  delightful  one.  The  young 
moon  and  the  bright-eyed  stars  came  out  to  keep 
vigil  as  we  glided  swiftly  over  the  shining  water. 
Fitz  Hugh  became  inspired  with  the  romance  of  the 
hour,  and  told  me  something  which  only  the  stars 
heard  ;  and  one  does  not  mind  having  the  stars  for 
confidants,  since  they  never  betray  the  secrets 
revealed  to  them ! 

Even  Aunt  Prim  looked  pathetically  up  to  the 
moon,  and  breathed  a  sigh,  which  was  probably  in 
memory  of  Bachelor  Grumpy. 

Just  to  think  of  Aunt  Prim's  standing  out  on  deck 
in  the  night  air  to  look  at  the  moon,  and  waste  her 
thoughts  upon  that  thankless  man,  thereby  incurring 


304          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

the  risk  of  terrific  rheumatics !  "What  a  self- 
sacrificing  life  a  woman  lives !  Meanwhile  that 
mischievous  Madge  was  doing  her  best  to  horrify 
a  learned  Bostonian  youth  by  her  wisdom,  but  he 
didn't  seem  horrified  in  the  least — only  amused. 
And  he  inflicted  such  a  vast  amount  of  both  ancient 
and  modern  lore  upon  poor  Madge  that  she  began 
to  yawn,  and  fancied  that  she  had  the  worst  of  the 
bargain. 

You  cannot  frighten  your  modern  Athenians  by 
your  learning,  my  fair  sisters.  They  really  expect 
something  more  of  a  woman  than  that  she  should 
know  how  to  "  brush  away  flies." 

As  we  glided  past  the  beautiful,  fairy-like  islands 
sleeping  so  quietly  in  the  moonlight,  Madge  said  that 
she  would  love  to  have  a  little  isle  of  her  own,  on 
which  she  might  dwell  forever.  But  Madge  is  sadly 
given  to  romancing — and  it  is  to  be  feared  would 
find  an  island  home  quite  unendurable.  "What !  no 
dinner-parties,  no  hops  or  balls,  no  concerts,  save 
the  tree  toad  and  the  katydid  duets,  no  German,  no 
opera,  no  anything  worth  living  for !  As  if  one 
could  possibly  exist  in  a  place  where  the  latest 
fashions  were  not  to  be  had  !  As  if  one  could  bid 
adieu  forever  to  point-lace  and  satin,  and  wear 


FORT   TICONDEROGA.  305 

linsey-woolsey  all  the  rest  of  one's  days  without  being 
heart-broken ! 

As  wo  drew  near  Caldwell  Landing,  strains  of 
music  came  floating  toward  us  on  the  evening  air, 
and  we,  could  sec  the  Fort  William  Henry  ablaze 
with  lights  which  twinkled  through  the  trees  like 
myriads  of  stars. 

Madge  is  already  turning  her  bright  eyes  south 
ward,  in  anticipation  of  a  few  days  at  West  Point, 
before  we  finally  recross  the  threshold  of  home. 
Fitz  Hugh  says  a  girl  would  fall  in  love  with  a 
blue-coat  with  gilt  buttons  if  there  were  no  one  in 
side  of  it ! 


XLII. 

NIAGARA   FALLS. 

A  VISIT  to  Niagara  Falls  in  the  beautiful  month 
of  September,  after  a  gay  season  at  Saratoga  and 
other  fashionable  resorts,  is  apt  to  be  beneficial  in 
more  ways  than  one. 

The  contemplation  of  Nature  in  her  grandest 
mood,  acts  as  a  preventive  to  one's  being  spoiled 
by  the  display  of  extravagant  folly  at  the  Springs, 
and  from  having  been  drawn  into  the  whirlpool  of 
fashionable  dissipation  and  sent  round  the  vortex 
from  day  to  day  until  the  close  of  the  season. 

At  Niagara  man  may  learn  much  of  his  own  in 
dividual  littleness  and  insignificance  in  the  vast 
scheme  of  creation.  lie  may  look  upon  himself  as 
but  a  little  grain  of  sand  amid  the  mighty  multi 
tude  of  men  who  pass  over  the  face  of  the  earth 
and  are  so  soon  lost  upon  the  shores  of  the  Infinite 
— a  grain  of  sand  which  a  moment  of  time  sweeps 
away  forever. 

And  beside  the  brief  space  of  time  allotted  to 


NIAGARA   FALLS.  307 

man,  how  eternal  seems  the  never-ceasing  voice  of 
Niagara. 

For  ages  and  ages  past,  have  these  mighty  waters 
rushed  with  a  never-ending  flow  into  the  dark  abyss 
beneath,  invincible  and  unrelenting  as  cruel  fate, 
bearing  everything  before  them  with  a  power  and 
a  majesty  that  no  mortal  has  ever  yet  been  able  to 
resist. 

And  for  ages  yet  to  come,  although  generation 
after  generation  of  men  shall  pass  away,  like 
leaves  before  the  wind  ;  proud  forests  shall  be  laid 
low ;  nations  shall  rise  and  fall ;  barren  plains 
become  populous  cities,  and  cities  whose  wealth  and 
power  now  rule  the  world  shall  become  like  desert 
places — still  shall  the  thunder  tones  of  Niagara 
proclaim  the  littleness  of  time  and  the  infiiiiteness 
of  eternity. 

Niagara  at  this  season  of  the  year  is  thronged  with 
visitors. 

The  sultriness  of  the  dog-days  being  over,  people 
can  truly  enjoy  travelling  in  this  charming  weather 
— that  is,  provided  always  that  they  can  divest 
themselves  of  gloomy  forebodings  of  accidents  by 
steamboat  or  rail,  which  are  but  too  well  justified  by 
the  frequent  occurrence  of  mishaps. 

The  principal  part  of  the  visitors  at  Niagara  are 


308  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

transient  guests,  people  who  come  and  go,  and 
carry  away  with  them  a  series  of  pictures  indelibly 
graven  upon  the  mind,  which  neither  time  nor 
change  can  ever  efface. 

Amid  the  great  number  of  summer  resorts, 
Niagara  stands  alone  in  the  peculiar  feature  of  her 
attractions.  This  is  no  place  for  fashion  and  dis 
play  ;  therefore  it  is  that  the  giddy  worldlings  of 
upper-tendom  never  linger  here,  only  stopping  a  day 
or  two  to  gaze  with  a  little  wonder  and  awe  at  the 
mighty  spectacle  spread  out  before  them,  and  then 
rushing  away  to  unpack  their  trunks  and  Haunt  their 
finery  in  some  more  congenial  atmosphere. 

It  is  all  in  vain  for  the  beautiful  belle  to  bring 
hither  her  costly  silks  and  rare  laces,  or  for  the 
stately  matron  to  display  her  brilliant  jewels  and 
showy  equipage,  to  win  the  admiration  of  the 
world,  for  the  world  has  something  else  to  admire 
at  Niagara — and  fashion  becomes  too  insignificant, 
and  frivolity  too  palpably  absurd,  to  hold  any  sway 
in  this  grand  temple  of  Nature. 

Even  the  man  of  genius,  he  who  has  carved  his 
name  high  up  on  the  roll  of  fame  and  honor,  feels 
his  own  littleness  and  the  pitiful  weakness  of  human 
ity  as  he  stands  face  to  face  with  the  majesty  of 
Nature  as  revealed  in  Niagara. 


NIAGARA    FALLS.  309 

Here  fashion,  for  once  at  least,  must  bend  her 
giddy  head  in  reverence ;  frivolity  forget  its  jest, 
and  be  awed  into  silence  by  the  stupendous  voice 
of  Nature. 

While  we  are  overwhelmed  with  the  grandeur 
and  sublimity  of  the  scene  presented  by  this  mighty 
fall  of  waters,  the  heart  is  also  thrilled  with  the 
perception  of  infinite  beauty. 

One  should  come  to  look  upon  Niagara  on  these 
beautiful  September  nights,  when  all  the  stars  are 
out  in  their  glory,  and  the  moon  appears  in  the 
heavens  at  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight  and  throws 
her  silvery  beams  athwart  the  white  clouds  of  mist 
arising  from  the  falls. 

O 

Flooded  with  her  radiance,  the  great  mass  of 
waters  rush  on  like  streams  of  molten  silver,  while 
weird,  unearthly  shapes  flit  in  and  out  through  the 
floating  mists,  now  gleaming  in  the  moonlight,  now 
disappearing  in  the  shadows.  And  up  from  the 
-white  clouds  of  foam  beneath,  arises  the  beautiful 
lunar  bow,  gorgeous  in  color  and  describing  a  per 
fect  arch,  as  it  shines  resplendent  through  the  thin 
veil  of  mist  which  floats  around  it.  Silent  and 
beautiful  as  the  prophetic  stars  above,  it  greets  the 
astonished  gaze  of  a  mortal  as  though  it  were  some 
wandering  angel  of  light  sent  to  cheer  with  its  soft 


310  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

effulgence  the  lost  spirits  who  weep  and  wail,  and 
send  up  endless  shrieks  upon  the  night  from  the 
dark,  fathomless  gulf  below. 

The  lunar  bow  is  visible  only  from  Luna  Island, 
two  or  three  nights  during  each  month,  when  the 
moon  is  at  its  full  and  sheds  its  light  directly  over 
the  American  Fall. 

Upon  the  left  of  Luna  Island  is  Goat  Island, 
with  its  dark  wood  wrapped  in  mysterious  shadows, 
and  beyond,  the  Three  Sisters,  now  connected  by  a 
bridge,  which  was  almost  as  great  a  marvel  in  its 
accomplishment,  so  rapid  is  the  rush  of  water  be 
tween  the  islands,  as  the  famous  Suspension  Bridge 
below  the  Falls.  Across  the  river  the  Canadian 
shore  looms  dimly  up  in  the  darkness,  and  all  is 
hushed  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  except  the  mo 
notonous,  steady  roar  of  the  cataract,  which  knows 
no  day,  nor  night,  nor  moment  of  rest  or  silence, 
but  leaps,  and  surges,  and  boils,  as  it  rushes  over  the 
fearful  brink  in  a  flow  which  goes  on  forever. 

But  if  Niagara  is  beautiful  at  night,  when  reflect 
ing  the  splendor  of  the  stars,  and  bathed  in  the 
witchery  of  moonlight,  what  shall  be  said  of  it  as 
revealed  in  the  full  splendor  of  the  noonday  sun  ? 

The  golden  glow  of  the  sun  crowns  Niagara  with, 
a  thousand  new  and  wondrous  glories.  The  mists 


NIAGARA   FALLS.  311 

wliich  are  ever  soaring  upward,  Nature's  pure  in 
cense  to  the  sun,  are  now  radiant  with  gold,  and  red, 
and  purple,  and  flashing  with  ever- varying  rainbows. 
These  rainbows  float  in  and  out  from  the  white 
clouds  of  foam  like  spirits  of  the  air  with  golden 
wings. 

Above  the  Tails  are  the  Eapids  which  rush  onward 
in  their  mad  career,  sporting  in  frantic  joy  with  the 
bright  sunbeams,  flashing  back  their  brilliancy,  and 
shimmering  each  into  a  thousand  rays  of  light. 

No  one  should  leave  Niagara  without  visiting  the 
Whirlpool  Eapid,  about  a  mile  below  the  Falls. 
Here  it  was  that  the  staunch  little  steamer,  the  Maid 
of  the  Mist,  ran  the  gauntlet  for  liberty  or  con 
fiscation,  a  few  years  ago.  Many  visitors  to  the 
Falls  will  remember  taking  a  hazardous  trip  in 
this  steamer,  which  was  wont  to  venture  far  up  into 
the  mist  of  the  Horseshoe  Fall ;  but  which  was 
finally  attached  by  the  sheriff  for  debt.  But  the 
Maid  of  the  Mist,  which  had  already  braved  so  many 
dangers,  was  not  to  submit  tamely  to  seizure  for 
debt,  and  her  owners  starred  her  on  a  voyage  alone 
down  the  Rapids.  The  utmost  curiosity  was  evinced 
in  her  ultimate  fate,  as  she  was  hurried  along  by  the 
swift  current.  Upon  reaching  the  whirlpool  she 
disappeared  altogether  from  sight,  and  was  given  up 


312          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

for  lost,  when  lo  !  she  suddenly  emerged  from  the 
seething  vortex  with  only  the  loss  of  her  smoke 
stack,  shook  the  angry  waters  from  her  spars  and 
cables,  and  sailed  away  as  dauntless  as  ever,  until 
she  reached  the  placid  waters  of  Lake  Ontario, 
having  crossed  the  Canadian  line  in  safety,  and  thus 
forever  escaped  the  clutches  of  the  American 
sheriff. 

A  wooden  building  has  been  erected  upon  the  bank 
near  the  Whirlpool.  Here  you  enter  a  car,  which 
carries  you  down  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet  below,  to 
a  platform  of  the  rocky  ledge.  From  this  you  de 
scend  fifty  feet  further  by  means  of  wooden  stairs, 
and  thus  find  yourself  upon  the  brink  of  the  river. 

Upon  either  side  the  banks  of  solid  rock  rise 
perpendicularly  to  the  height  of  two  hundred  feet, 
and  between  them  rushes  the  vast  volume  of  water 
from  the  fall  above,  at  the  swift  rate  of  twenty 
miles  an  hour.  The  river  is  quite  narrow  here, 
thus  increasing  the  depth  of  the  stream,  and  render 
ing  the  mad  struggles  of  the  waters  as  they  leap 
tempestuously  forward,  foaming  and  writhing  like  a 
torrent  of  angry  demons  all  striving  for  mastery, 
fearful  to  witness. 

It  is  always  a  marvel  to  the  beholder  how  a 
steamer,  or  indeed  any  object  whatever,  could  have 


NIAGARA    FALLS.  313 

passed  through  such  waters,  and  have  still  lived.  He- 
gaining  the  road  at  the  top  of  the  precipice,  we  left 
this  troubled  scene,  and  drove  along  the  banks  of 
the  river  towards  Lewiston — and  no  prettier  or  more 
romantic  drive  could  be  imagined  than  this.  The 
road  winds  in  and  out  through  deep  forests  and 
beautiful  groves,  past  pleasant  meadows  lying  placid 
in  the  sun  upon  either  side,  but  never  straying  be 
yond  a  view  of  the  river. 

At  Lewiston  you  cross  a  light,  airy-looking  sus 
pension  bridge,  which  affords  a  magnificent  view  of 
the  stream  as  it  comes  hurrying  down,  and  find 
yourself  upon  the  Canadian  shore.  A  short  drive 
brings  you  to  Queenstewn,  where  is  the  famous 
monument  erected  to  General  Brock.  To  one  who 
has  courage  to  climb  the  wearisome  and  seemingly 
interminable  steps  of  this  monument — they  number 
somewhere  about  five  hundred — a  rare  view  is 
afforded  from  the  top.  You  look  down  upon  the 
blue  waters  of  Lake  Erie  upon  one  side,  and  the 
tranquil  depths  of  Ontario  on  the  other.  The 
waves  of  Erie  are  dancing  in  the  sunlight,  full  of 
life  and  glee  ;  while  the  silent  waters  of  Ontario, 
with  scarcely  a  ripple  upon  their  glassy  surface,  lie 
like  one  vast  unbroken  sheet  of  light.  Like  these 

waters  in  character  are  the  little  villages  and  towns 
14 


314:  SPARKLES   FROM    SARATOGA. 

which  are  scattered  over  the  country  beneath  you — 
whose  dwellings  look  like  mere  specks  in  the  distance, 
and  whose  spires  and  domes  appear  but  as  ornaments 
to  toy-houses  from  the  lofty  height  of  the  monu 
ment.  The  American  villages  are  full  of  life  and 
enterprise — the  inhabitants,  fully  imbued  with  the 
national  spirit  of  acquiring  independence,  by  ac 
quiring  wealth — while  those  towns  upon  the  Canadian 
side  are  as  listless  and  antiquated  as  though  they  had 
been  flung  down  in  the  primitive  days  of  the  world, 
and  had  stood  still  ever  since,  absorbed  with  wonder 
at  their  own  existence. 

Every  banquet  is  said  to  have  its  skeleton  at  the 
board,  and  the  feast  of  soul,  and  mind,  and  heart,  at 
Niagara  Falls,  is  no  exception  to  this  fearful  rule. 

The  spectre  who  haunts  this  otherwise  charming 
spot  is  a  ghoul,  who  preys  not  upon  the  dead,  but 
far  worse — upon  the  living — and  his  name  is  Fifty 
Cents  !  You  cannot  go  a  few  rods  from  your  tem 
porary  dwelling  without  being  confronted  by  this 
monster,  and  the  stamp  which  bears  his  name  is  de 
manded. 

This  is  called  a  free  country,  but  liberty  in  view 
ing  natural  scenery  .  is  wonderfully  shackled  at 
Niagara.  The  fifty  cents  imposition  of  this  place 
has  become  world- wide. 


NIAGARA   FALLS.  315 

You  cannot  cross  a  bridge,  go  down  into  the 
Devil's  Hole,  enter  the  Cave  of  the  Winds,  in  fact 
neither  cross  the  river  nor  stay  upon  this  side,  with 
out  paying  the  inevitable  fifty  cents.  The  rapacity 
of  the  hackmen  here  is  too  well  known  to  be 
worthy  of  mention.  It  seems  as  though  there 
might  be  some  remedy  afforded  for  this  evil,  that 
every  visitor  should  not  fall  a  prey  to  these  merce 
naries.  It  is  evident  that  there  is  a  mania  raging 
among  these  people  which  only  a  surfeit  of  fifty- 
cent  notes  can  alleviate. 

Visitors  can  reach  the  Canadian  shore  by  means 
of  a  ferryboat  which  crosses  to  that  side.  This 
ferry  is  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  precipice,  which  you 
decend  by  means  of  a  car  at  the  top  of  the  brink, 
which  car  being  once  put  in  motion  rushes  down 
ward  with  the  speed  of  the  wind,  fairly  taking  away 
your  breath  with  its  velocity! 

Arrived  safely  at  the  bottom  you  enter  the  ferry, 
widen  is  a  small  boat  plie.d  with  oars.  The  view 
afforded  while  crossing  the  river  is  sublime  beyond 
description. 

Pausing  midway  in  the  stream,  you  behold  a  sight 
that,  in  grandeur  and  awful  magnificence,  no 
other  spot  on  earth  can  equal.  Far  above  you 
tower  mountains  of  green  w^ater  all  crested  over 


316  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

with  white  foam  glistening  in  the  sunlight,  and  evok 
ing  shadows  from  out  their  own  mysterious  depths. 
And  there  are  billows  of  white,  misty  vapor,  ever 
rising  and  soaring  upward,  catching  the  sunbeams 
as  they  go,  and  reflecting  their  roseate  light  in  a 
thousand  brilliant-hued  rainbows. 

Where  else  does  Nature  smile  upon  her  children 
like  this  ? 

The  principal  places  of  interest  upon  the  Canada 
side  are  the  British  Museum,  Table  Hock,  and 
Lundy's  Lane,  where,  during  the  war  of  1812,  Gen 
eral  Scott  first  won  his  military  laurels,  and  where 
also  be  was  severely  wounded. 

But  the  "Hero  of  Lundy's  Lane"  wras  not 
destined  to  end  his  career  thus  early,  as  the  history 
of  future  years  has  so  proudly  shown,  and  Ameri 
cans  who  stand  upon  the  spot  of  Scott's  youthful 
glory,  remember  with  pride  the  long  category  of 
brave  deeds  which  have  formed  the  hero's  crown, 
and  for  which  the  victory  of  Lundy's  Lane  was  but 
the  first  prophetic  sheaf. 

The  principal  curiosity  in  the  Museum  is  the 
skeleton  of  the  Mastodon.  There  is  also  the  huge 
frame  of  a  whale,  wrhich  never  fails  to  astonish  the 
little  folks. 

Niagara,  once  seen,  is  never  to  be  forgotten,  and 


NIAGARA  FALLS.  317 

the  greater  the  number  of  times  a  person  visits  the 
Falls,  the  better  will  he  appreciate  them.  At  the 
first  view,  Niagara  overwhelms  us  with  its  vastness 
and  terrible  majesty.  A  flood  of  new  and  strange 
sensations  sweeps  over  ns,  and  we  lose  all  power  to 
analyze  them.  Only  the  littleness,  the  insignifi 
cance  of  man  appears  before  this  stupendous  master 
piece  of  Nature.  People  are  as  pigmies,  and 
their  dwellings  seem  so  perishable  beside  the  ever 
lasting  Falls,  that  it  appears  mere  vanity  to  build 
them ;  indeed,  houses  built  with  hands  are  incongru 
ous  with  this  scene.  The  people  of  Niagara  should 
live  and  worship  in  groves,  as  did  the  ancients,  or 
build  rustic  abodes,  which  should  seem  a  part  of 
Nature.  If  there  is  one  place  upon  this  earth  better 
fitted  than  all  others  to  awaken  the  sense  of  the 
truly  sublime  in  man's  soul,  that  place  is  surely 
Niagara. 


XLIII. 

BKASS  BUTTONS. 

WE  are  on  our  "  Homeward  March,"  but,  allured 
by  the  sound  of  the  fife  and  drum,  and  out  of 
compliment  to  the  young  glory-hunters  who  have 
their  quarters  there,  we  have  stopped  for  a  few  days 
at  West  Point.  Rataplan  !  Rataplan  !  Rataplan  ! 
Who  does  not  like  the  sound  of  the  drum  !  Now  if 
West  Point  would  only  throw  open  its  doors 
hospitably  to  all  spirited  young  ladies  who  have  a 
thirst  for  glory,  a  passion  for  laurel  leaves,  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  how  many  belles  would  turn 
cadets  at  once !  For  what,  I  should  like  to  know, 
is  so  fascinating  as  a  handsome  youth,  in  a  gray 
coat  with  gilt  buttons,  and  on  his  head  the  dark  blue 
cap  which  he  wears  so  saucily  d  la  militaire.  It  is 
a  great  mystery  to  me  that,  with  all  the  clamoring 
for  woman's  rights  which  has  agitated  society  during 
the  past  few  years,  no  fair  hands  have  yet  been 
heard  tapping  for  admission  at  the  gates  of  West 
Point. 

I  have  a  mind  to  beat  a  loud  reveille  in  Uncle 


BRASS   BUTTONS.  319 

Sam's  ears  myself,  to  awaken  him  to  the  fact  that 
he  has  an  army  of  daughters  as  well  as  sons  to  be 
provided  for. 

Have  we  not  had  any  number  of  notable  examples 
of  feminine  soldiers  who  have  won  the  undying 
crown  of  fame  by  their  bravery  and  their  enthusi 
astic  devotion  to  the  cause  in  which  they  were  en 
gaged  ? 

There  was  the  valiant  and  beautiful  Clorinda,  of 
whom  Tasso  sang  in  his  "  Jerusalem  Delivered ;  *' 
there  was  Joan  of  Arc,  the  inspired  girl  who  led 
whole  armies  on  to  battle,  filling  their  hearts  with 
her -own  enthusiasm;  and,  coming  down  to  later 
times,  there  was  Sally  St.  Clair,  who  fought  bravely 
by  the  side  of  her  lover  all  through  the  Revolution. 

Just  think  what  splendid  officers  might  be  made 
of  some  of  the  pretty  girls  who  are  rusticating  here ! 
What  soldier  would  ever  think  of  deserting,  or  what 
mutiny  would  break  out  in  the  ranks,  if  a  charming 
young  lady  like  Cousin  Madge,  dressed  in  a  short 
frock  of  blue  cloth  trimmed  with  gold  lace  and  gilt 
buttons,  with  a  little  cap  placed  d  la  militaire  above 
her  glossy  tresses  and  worn  with  a  defiant  air,  should 
assume  command  ?  And  then  what  a  saving  of 
rations  there  would  be  to  Uncle  Sam,  if  all  the 
soldiers,  rank  and  file,  were  to  fall  in  love  with  their 


320  SPARKLES    FROM    SARATOGA. 

pretty  commander,  for  people  in  love  are  so  apt  to 
lose  their  appetites ! 

Here  is  an  idea  worthy  of  consideration  by  politi 
cal  economists. 

Fitz  Hugh  doesn't  seem  to  have  a  decided  pen 
chant  for  the  West  Point  cadets,  probably  because 
Madge  and  I  have.  Fitz  Hugh  remarks,  sarcasti 
cally,  that  "  any  monkey  dressed  in  uniform  would 
captivate  a  woman's  heart,  if  he  assumed  the  airs 
and  graces  of  these  cadets." 

But  then  the  poor  fellow  is  growing  rather  cynical 
of  late,  and  what  he  says  is  not  always  to  be  relied 
upon.  I  think  two  or  three  seasons  at  Saratoga 
have  spoiled  him.  He  has  lost  his  first  belief  in  the 
perfection  of  the  fairer  sex — from  seeing  so  much 
of  the  artificial  and  false  among  them — and  now 
goes  quite  to  the  other  extreme,  and  pronounces 
them  all  deceitful. 

However,  he  has  grace  enough  to  except  the  ladies 
of  his  own  party. 

But,  Fitz  Hugh  notwithstanding,  the  West  Point 
cadet  is  a  splendid  fellow.  His  physique  must  be 
unexceptionable  ;  he  is  tall,  broad-shouldered,  strong 
as  a  young  lion,  and  knows  110  fear.  He  is  inured 
to  every  hardship.  Wrapped  in  his  blanket,  he 
sleeps  as  soundly  upon  the  cold  bosom  of  Mother 


BE  ASS   BUTTONS.  321 

Earth,  with  the  whispering  winds  sweeping  over  him 
and  the  far-off  stars  keeping  faithful  watch,  as 
though  he  rested  upon  a  bed  of  down.  And  who 
guesses  the  sweet  dreams  and  loving  fancies  which 
hover  around  the  hard  pillow  of  the  young  cadet 
through  the  long  vigils  of  the  lonely  night  ? 

As  the  physical  condition  of  the  cadet  must  be 
excellent,  so  his  intellect  must  be  keen  and  bright — 
the  history  of  all  nations  must  be  as  familiar  to  him" 
as  nursery  tales.  He  must  be  able  to  grasp  the  most 
subtle  questions  with  quickness  and  ability.  He 
must  train  his  mind  to  rapidity  of  action  as  well  as 
his  body.  He  knows  that,  in  all  probability,  the  day 
will  come  when  with  the  eyes  of  all  the  world  upon 
him,  he  will  be  required  to  plan  the  most  daring 
schemes  quickly ;  and  without  the  slightest  loss  of 
time,  to  act  with  rapidity  of  movement,  coolness,  and 
unflinching  bravery.  He  who  stands  the  test  when 
it  comes  is  sure  to  cover  his  name  with  glory,  while 
he  who  fails  is  as  surely  buried  in  ignominy.  It's 
all  useless  for  Fitz  Hugh  to  sneer  at  the  West  Point 
cadet,  for  he  is  a  glorious  youth,  and  his  greatest 
attractions  are  not  his  gray  coat  and  gilt  buttons. 

At  least  Cousin  Madge  thinks  so,  for  she  has  half 
lost  her  heart  to  that  handsome  young  Achilles,  who 
14* 


322  SPARKLES   FROM    SAKATOGA. 

is  this  moment  bending  over  her  and  whispering 
compliments  in  the  most  approved  manner. 

Ah,  well !  "  Only  the  brave  deserve  the  fair !  " 
The  scenery  around  ^West  Point  is  unsur 
passed.  The  sublimity  and  loveliness  of  Nature 
meet  your  eye,  turn  wherever  you  will.  Lofty  peaks, 
which  lift  their  heads  proudly  far  above  the  clouds  ; 
green  valleys  which  lie  tranquilly,  like  one  sleeping 
softly — half  draped  in  sunshine,  half  in  shadow; 
and  the  broad,  blue  river  which  mirrors  the  infinite 
depths  of  the  sky,  reflects  the  majestic  moun 
tains  and  verdure-clad  hills,  the  quaint  castles 
perched  far  up  among  the  rocks  and  trees,  the  little 
sequestered  cottages  which  nestle  near  the  shore, 
and  then  rushes  swiftly  on  to  whisper  to  the  sea  the 
story  of  all  this  loveliness. 

If  the  scenery  of  the  Hudson  is  grand  and  beau 
tiful  in  the  broad  light  of  the  sunshine,  what  shall 
be  said  of  it  on  a  clear  moonlight  night  ?  Is  there 
any  picture  in  poetry  or  in  art  which  can  equal  this 
beautiful  dream  of  Nature  ?  The  moonlight  casts  a 
glow  of  beauty  over  the  most  commonplace  objects  ; 
but  when  the  magnificent  scenery  of  the  Hudson  is 
bathed  in  its  silvery  light,  when  all  the  wizard 
charm  of  the  night  is  cast  like  a  spell  over  these 
rocks  and  hills,  what  poet's  pen  or  artist's  pencil 


BRASS   BUTTONS.  323 

could  faithfully  reproduce  the  picture  ?  No  wonder 
that  marvellous  legends,  and  tales  which  blanch  the 
cheek  of  the  listener  and  send  the  heart-blood 
quicker  through  the  veins,  cling  to  these  shores,  for 
if  ever  wild  romance  and  poetry  had  a  fitting  home 
on  earth,  it  is  here. 

One  can  easily  fancy  the  spectres  and  goblins 
which  haunt  the  Dunderberg  to  be  no  mere  dream ; 
can  see  the  weird  spirits  which  float  and  hover 
around  old  Crow's  Nest,  or  cluster  in  myriads  upon 
holy  Saint  Anthony's  Nose.  And  then  the  white 
shadows  which  haunt  the  dark  glens  and  vales,  and 
which  the  moonlight  brings  to  view,  seem  like  white- 
robed  spirits ;  and  the  mists  which  float  along  the 
shore,  just  at  the  edge  of  the  river  and  at  the  foot 
of  the  dark  mountains,  appear  like  airy  barques 
awaiting  to  carry  these  unknown  visitants  of  earth 
back  to  the  spirit-land. 

Ah,  well,  if  one  should  linger  too  long  amid  these 
delightful  haunts,  the  garb  of  romance  would  so 
enwrap  him  that  the  everyday  world  would  seem 
too  cold  and  prosaic  to  live  in. 

The  only  thing  which  enables  Madge  and  I  to 
maintain  our  equilibrium,  and  prevents  us  from 
floating  away  among  the  clouds,  is  the  gray  coats 
and  brass  buttons  which  flutter  around  us.  Besides, 


324:  SPAKKLES   FllOM    SARATOGA. 

it  is  so  amusing  to  notice  Fitz  Hugh's  uneasiness 
and  Aunt  Prim's  increased  vigilance. 

Every  morning  at  eight  o'clock  the  inspiring  sound 
of  the  drum  summons  us  hastily  from  our  looking- 
glasses,  with  flying  ribbons  and  half -brushed  tresses, 
to  witness  the  "  Guard  mount ;  "  and  then  these  war 
like  youths,  evidently  forgetting  their  soft  good-nights 
of  the  previous  evening,  salute  us  with  the  thunder 
of  cannon,  and  the  sound  reverberates  from  peak  to 
peak  and  dies  away  amid  the  mysterious  distances  of 
the  mountains. 

Madge  was  inclined  at  first  to  pout  a  little  at  this 
reception,  and  declared  that  "  Charles  Augustus 
wished  her  a  curious  good-morning  !  "  Aunt  Prim 
finds  the  noise  of  cannon  and  guns  uncongenial  to 
her  sensitive  nerves,  and  vows  that  it  is  a  shame  for 
the  government  to  waste  so  much  powder  and  shot 
in  times  of  peace !  Aunt  Prim  would  be  invaluable 
as  a  political  economist ! 

After  the  parade  we  have  breakf ast,  and  speaking 
of  breakfast  reminds  me  of  something  I  saw  this 
morning,  and  this  was  the  spasmodic  efforts  of  a 
lady  to  sever  the  delicate  meat  from  the  wing  of  a 
broiled  chicken. 

"  To  be  or  not  to  be,"  is  a  question,  doubtless,  of 
momentous  importance,  but  whether  it  is  en  regie 


BRASS   BUTTONS.  325 

to  pick  a  chicken  bone  in  one's  fingers  or  to  perform 
that  operation  with  the  crnel  knife,  is  also  a  matter 
to  be  carefully  debated.  There  is  valuable  authority 
to  be  quoted  in  favor  of  each  method,  and  disquisi 
tions  both  amusing  and  instructive  upon  the  subject 
to  be  conned. 

Soyer,  the  illustrious  French  cook,  never  prepared 
a  banquet  but  he  provided  also  a  great  number  of 
small  birds  expressly  for  the  ladies  to  pick  the  little 
bones  with  their  fingers.  Never,  he  said,  was  a  lady 
so  attractive  as  when  holding  the  delicate  wing  of  a 
bird  in  her  dainty  white  fingers,  and  ever  and  anon 
wiping  her  rose-bud  mouth  with  the  snowy  napkin. 

Now  Soyer  catered  to  the  tastes  of  the  most  aris 
tocratic  people  in  the  land,  and  may  be  accepted  as 
good  authority  upon  the  etiquette  of  the  table. 

But  against  the  great  French  cook,  we  have 
the  illustrious  English  poet  Byron,  who  declared 
that  he  never  wished  to  see  a  lady  eat.  Byron 
would  doubtless  have  fed  his  inamorata  upon  honey- 
dew  and  nightingales'  tongues,  and  but  sparingly 
at  that.  What  would  he  have  said  had  he  seen  her 
picking  the  bone  of  a  defunct  chicken  in  her  fin 
gers  ?  Unfortunately,  we  of  the  "  weaker  sex  "  are 
not  yet  quite  angelic  enough  to  subsist  entirely  upon 
love  and  nightingales'  tongues,  and  although  Byron 


326         SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

may  be  admirable  authority  for  moonlight  nights, 
Soyer  is  infinitely  to  be  preferred  for  breakfast. 
So  I  thought  this  morning  at  the  table,  and  I  felt 
very  much  like  remarking  to  the  lady  who  was 
making  her  matin  meal  evidently  in  great  awe  of 
the  sable  waiters  and  the  observant  strangers  : 

"My  dear  Madam — take  courage!  Cease  your 
frantic  endeavors  with  the  knife  upon  that  miserable 
fowl — and  follow  Soyer's  advice."  But  as  I  had 
some  little  hesitancy  in  speaking  thus  to  a  perfect 
stranger,  and  remembering  that  example  was  always 
better  than  precept,  I  boldly  lifted  a  chicken's  wing 
in  my  fingers  d  la  Soyer. 

In  defence  of  my  "line  of  conduct,"  I  quoted 
Soyer  in  a  subdued  tone  of  voice,  but  Fitz  Hugh 
annihilated  me  instantly  with  Byron,  and  with,  more 
over,  a  Byronic  scene  !  Oh,  dear,  I  haven't  relished 
a  breakfast  since ;  I  think  this  contretemps  gave 
me  a  fit  of  dyspepsia,  and  Madge  says  I'm  growing 
thin ! 

But  I've  had  my  revenge  on  Fitz  Hugh.  These 
splendid  moonlight  nights  are  especially  calculated 
for  flirtations,  and  it  would  be  such  a  sin  not  to 
improve  them ! 

The  hops  and  balls  given  by  the  cadets  are  all 
over,  but  there  are  moonlight  strolls  and  pleasant 


BRASS    BUTTONS.  327 

walks  under"  the  trees  to  be  enjoyed,  with  only  the 
stars  looking  down  upon  you — dancing  in  the  parlor 
or  promenading  on  the  piazza,  and  all  this  with  some 
tall,  broad-shouldered  youth  in  uniform,  who  may 
some  day  be  a  brigadier-general,  or  a  hero  with  the 
fadeless  wreath  of  glory  upon  his  brow  !  . 

What  these  poor  cadets  do  when  the  cold  winter 
comes,  when  they  are  left  in  utter  solitude  to  delve 
among  their  books,  and  in  the  long  evenings  to  smoke 
their  cigars  beside  the  fire  in  loneliness — when  all  the 
gay  crowd  which  throngs  here  during  the  summer 
months  is  gone,  and  there  are  only  memories  left  of 
the  sweet  faces,  bright  eyes  and  silvery  voices  which 
gladdened  their  hearts  for  a  little  while,  and  then 
vanished  only  to  leave  a  painful  void — how  they 
console  themselves  passes  my  comprehension. 

We  suggested  the  propriety  of  leaving  Aunt  Prim 
at  West  Point  this  winter — what  a  belle  she  would 
be  !  And  I  am  sure  she  wpuld  not  desert  her  post, 
if  she  once  accepted  it,  for  she  is  an  excellent  person 
to  be  placed  "  on  guard  " — at  least,  Madge  and  I  find 
her  so. 

There  are  a  great  number  of  delightful  drives 
around  West  Point.  One  of  the  pleasantest  is  that 
which  leads  to  Cornwall.  The  scenery  is  charm 
ing  ;  the  road  winding  now  along  by  the  water's 


328  SPARKLES   FROM   SARATOGA. 

edge,  now  through  shaded  woods,  and  again  through 
long  avenues  of  cedars.  Yesterday  we  drove  to 
Fort  Montgomery,  a  distance  of  five  miles,  and  in 
dulged  anew  in  revolutionary  reminiscences.  And, 
at  the  charming  hour  of  sunset,  we  took  a  long  walk 
to  Fort  Putnam,  to  behold  the  river  from  its  heights. 
A  scene  of  surpassing  grandeur  rewarded  us,  for  the 
sun  went  down  in  a  sea  of  golden  glory,  flooding 
the  sky  with  crimson  and  yellow  clouds,  which 
floated  far  above  the  river  and  cast  their  rich  glow 
over  its  waters.  And,  between  two  lofty  peaks 
that  loomed  up  on  opposite  sides  of  the  stream, 
stretched  a  narrow  strip  of  tinted  cloud  which 
seemed  like  a  fairy  bridge  over  which  the  immortals 
were  passing. 

Why  should  our  artists  seek  in  foreign  lands 
beyond  the  seas  for  scenes  to  inspire  their  pencils  ? 

Here  may  they  drink  in  Nature's  loveliness,  even 
to  intoxication  of  heart  and  soul. 

And  when  the  Great  Artist  has  touched  our  native 
land  with  the  softening  pencil  of  Time,  what  other 
realm  beneath  the  sun  shall  equal  it  in  beauty  ? 
It  needs  only  the  ripening  maturity  which  years  will 
bring ;  the  clustering  associations  and  endearing 
memories  which  shall  encircle  every  spot  and  make 
of  it  all  "  hallowed  ground." 


BRASS   BUTTONS.  329 

No  better  place  could  have  been  selected  for  a 
military  academy  than  amid  these  scenes  of  loveli 
ness  on  the  banks  of  the  noble  Hudson,  for  what 
patriotic  heart  could  fail  to  be  fired  with  enthusiastic 
ardor,  if  called  upon  to  defend,  or  die  for,  such  a 
country  ? 

We  cannot  help  looking  regretfully  at  the  steam 
ers  which  pass  us  going  down  the  river — for  we  know 
that  we  must  follow  soon.  Even  the  river  itself 
seems  to  call  us  with  its  pleasant  murmur,  as  though 
longing  to  waft  us  homeward. 


XLIV. 

"  EYES   EIGHT  !  " 

WHAT  disciplinarians  they  are  at  West  Point.  If 
ever  any  place  of  education  turned  out  immaculate 
youth,  finished  to  the  last  degree  of  perfection, 
surely  that  place  ought  to  be  our  military  academy. 

It  would  be  rather  dangerous  to  marry  one  of 
those  cadets  ;  one  would  be  expected  to  draw  every 
breath  by  rule. 

Punctuality  at  breakfast  would  be  indispensable 
— no  curl-papers  allowed  there,  either — and  dinner 
would  have  to  be  in  readiness  at  the  dinner  hour, 
sJiarp.  In  fact,  it  would  be  "file  right,"  and  "file 
left "  all  day  long,  until  one  would  feel  inclined  to 
break  through  regulations  altogether,  to  rob  all 
smashable  things  of  their  geometrical  proportions, 
and  to  send  gilt  buttons,  shoulder-straps,  and  all 
other  military  "  traps  "  flying  out  of  the  window. 

A  West  Point  cadet  is  expected  to  pay  such  mi 
nute  attention  to  every  trivial  matter,  that  the  only 
wonder  is  how  he  manages  at  all  to  fill  his  mind 
with  subjects  of  vaster  importance.  Here  an  unfort- 


"  EYES   RIGHT  !  "  331 

unate  cadet  is  "reported"  for  being  thirty  seconds 
late  for  breakfast.  Only  half  a  minute  !  think  of  it, 
ye  youths  and  maidens  who  spend  hours  in  dressing 
for  dinner!  Another  poor  fellow  is  censured  for 
leaving  two  buttons  of  his  coat  unfastened,  another 

O  ' 

for  wearing  his  hat-band  awry,  and  another  for 
turning  his  eyes  for  the  space  of  a  second  in  the 
wrong  direction.  What  a  good  thing  it  would  be  to 
send  some  of  our  New  Yorkers  to  West  Point  for 
awhile,  that  their  eyes  might  be  trained  to  a  becom 
ing  sense  of  propriety,  this  branch  of  their  education 
seems  to  have  been  so  wof  ully  neglected. 

I  wish  all  the  old  gentlemen,  the  middle-aged 
men,  and  the  young  addlepates  also,  we  meet  on 
the  cars,  in  the  stages,  or  on  the  pavement,  had  been 
taught  to  keep  their  eyes  in  a  proper  direction. 
The  way  in  which  New  York  people  stare,  is  partic 
ularly  remarked  by  every  stranger.  In  no  place 
upon  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  does  one  have  to  encoun 
ter  such  a  formidable  battery  of  eyes  as  in  our  own 
city.  A  young  lady  enters  a  street  car.  If,  unluck 
ily,  she  happens  to  be  the  only  lady  in  the  car,  im 
mediately  the  twelve  masculines  seated  opposite 
seem  to  devour  her  with  glances.  Twenty-four  eyes 
are  remorselessly  levelled  at  her ;  although  these 
twelve  gentlemen  are  supposed  to  be  reading  their 


332         SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

evening  papers.  But,  somehow  or  other,  the  twenty- 
four  eyes  manage  to  peep  out  from  either  side,  or 
over  the  top  of  the  paper,  or  long  glances  are  stolen 
from  behind  it.  Meanwhile,  these  would-be  wise 
acres  hold  the  paper  aloft,  as  though  they  were  all 
absorbed  in  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  or  thrilled  with 
interest  at  the  latest  news  from  the  seat  of  war. 

Bah !  stocks  and  bonds,  government  securities  or 
national  loans,  peace  or  war,  politics,  religion,  or. 
murder — all  of  which  are  crowded  into  the  columns 
of  a  daily  paper — are  insufficient  to  absorb  the  at 
tention  of  the  lords  of  creation  if  a  pretty  woman 
happens  to  come  in  their  way.  I  repeat  that  eyes 
should  be  trained  to  mind  their  own  affairs,  and  not 
to  annoy  other  people.  Since  only  a  certain  limit  is 
allowed  to  the  tongue,  why  should  not  a  restriction 
be  also  placed  upon  the  still  more  eloquent  language 
of  the  eyes  ? 

And  how  does  the  young  lady  enjoy  the  indiscrim 
inate  attention  she  receives  from  behind  the  twelve 
newspapers  ? 

If  she  be  a  city  belle,  she  is  used  to  the  strange 
ways  of  New  Yorkers,  and  her  face  assumes  a  look 
of  the  utmost  sang  froid.  Her  glances  are  bent 
neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  but  directly  be 
fore  her,  and  she  is  no  more  disconcerted  than 


"  EYES   EIGHT  !  "  333 

she  would  be  at  home  in  her  boudoir.  But  if  she 
chances  to  be  a  country  maiden,  and  not  accus 
tomed  to  city  impudence,  she  is  easily  embarrassed, 
and  wonders  what  can  be  the  matter  that  everybody 
is  looking  at  her.  She  fancies  that  her  costume  is 
in  some  way  disarranged ;  that  perhaps  her  hair 
pins  are  falling  out,  her  collar  is  unfastened,  or  her 
hat  is  put  on  "  one-sided," — people  do  stare  so ! 
But  no,  nothing  is  the  matter,  except  that  these 
starers  have  never  been  taught  to  keep  their  eyes  in 
the  right  direction. 


XLV. 

FABEWELL. 

ALTHOUGH  the  season  is  late  there  are  some  three 
or  four  hundred  people  still  at  West  Point — people 
of  wealth,  culture,  and  refinement — whom  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  meet  and  to  know — very  little  shoddy, 
very  little  affectation,  a  scarcity  of  the  Saratoga 
wriggle,  and  even  the  "  Boston  dip  "  seems  to  lack 
popularity.  Have  I  alluded  to  the  "  dip  "•  particu 
larly  ?  I  think  not ;  and,  supposing  your  curiosity 
to  be  on  the  qui  vive,  I  will  endeavor  to  explain. 
Imagine  Fitz  Hugh  and  Madge  floating  gracefully 
through  the  divine  redowa.  The  music  swells,  and 
then  dies  away  to  softer  tones ;  then  rises  buoyantly 
again,  and  Madge  and  Fitz  Hugh  float  with  the  music. 
When  this  is  loud,  the  dancers  stand  upright ;  when 
it  sinks  to  softness,  they  bend  almost  to  the  floor — just 
like  two  barques  floating  upon  a  sea  of  melody,  and 
rising  or  falling  with  its  waves.  And  this  is  the 
"  Boston  dip."  But  while  dancing  it,  Madge  has 
very  much  the  appearance  of  being  afflicted  with 
fainting  spells,  while  Fitz  Hugh  seems  tenderly  to 


FAKEWELL.  335 

support  her!  Now  when  things  become  personal 
they  are  sometimes  unpleasant,  and  I  have  therefore 
discouraged  the  "  dip."  So  has  Aunt  Prim. 

What  new  freak  Dame  Fashion  will  launch  upon 
society  next  season  it  would  be  hard  to  conjecture, 
but  we  do  hope  that  the  Saratoga  wriggle  and  the 
"  Boston  dip  "  will  have  had  their  day  and  have  for 
ever  disappeared. 

We  were  quite  enlivened  to-day  by  the  arrival  of 
the  Widow  Dash  from  Saratoga.  Allured  by  the 
sound  of  the  drums,  as  well  as  the  other  numerous 
fascinations  which  cluster  here,  the  fair  widow  has 
alighted  like  a  sunbeam  in  our  midst. 

She  came,  she  saw,  she  conquered  !  Already  the 
charms  of  lovely  maidens  and  sweet-faced,  youthful 
matrons  are  sinking  into  insignificance  before  the 
bewilderments  of  this  widowed  enchantress. 

Talk  about  the  stupidity  of  the  poor  butterfly 
allured  by  the  flame !  Butterflies  are  angels  of 
reason  compared  to  these  foolish  men.  The  Widow 
Dash  gives  an  adorer  but  one  look,  and  he  is  con 
quered  immediately,  just  as  much  as  though  a  bullet 
had  pierced  his  heart.  She  twists  every  man  who  ap 
proaches  her  around  her  little  finger  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  and  while  the  poor  simpleton  imagines  he 
is  gaining  grace  in  her  favor,  he  is  only  becoming 


336  SPARKLES    FROM   SARATOGA. 

< 

hopelessly  entangled  himself,  while  the  artful  widow 
is  laughing  at  him  in  her  sleeve. 

There  goes  a  curious-looking  couple  -down  the 
piazza  as  I  write — a  tall,  middle-aged  lady,  hand 
somely  dressed,  and  carrying  a  pet  dog  under  her 
arm. 

Beside  her  walks  the  smallest  and  most  insignifi 
cant-looking  man  imaginable.  Some  little  men  have 
great  souls,  but  the  soul  of  this  man  could  be  easily 
balanced  on  the  point  of  a  No.  10  needle. 

And  what  I  should  like  to  know  is,  that  when  a 
woman  has  a  puppy  for  a  husband,  why  does  she 
burden  herself  with  an  additional  cur  in  the  form  of 
a  lap-dog  ? 

Now,  if  tyranny  ever  displayed  itself  upon  a  human 
face,  then  does  every  feature  of  this  petty-sized,  petty- 
souled  man  indicate  that  he  is  a  domestic  tyrant,  and 
that  his  wife,  who  is  evidently  his  superior  in  every 
thing,  has  been  a  perfect  slave  to  his  every  caprice. 
As  she  is  head  and  shoulders  above  him,  I  have 
thought  of  suggesting  to  the  poor  lady  that  when  her 
lord  and  master  did  not  conduct  himself  properly,  it 
might  be  a  good  idea  to  lift  him  off  from  his  feet  by 
the  hair  of  his  head,  and  then  give  him  a  gentle 
shaking.  But,  upon  closer  examination,  I  have 
discovered  that  the  little  man  wears  a  wig.  Now 


FAREWELL.  337 

what  is  to  be  done  under  such  circumstances  ?  I 
once  read  of  a  woman  who  had  a  dwarf  for  a  hus 
band,  and  when  he  didn't  behave  himself  she  stood 
him  upon  a  high  shelf,  and  kept  him  there  until  he 
promised  to  be  good.  I  think  that  lady  upon  the 
piazza  might  profit  by  this  example,  only  she  ought 
to  place  her  husband  upon  a  shelf  so  high  that  he 
would  never  come  down. 

There  is  no  resource  left  to  this  poor  wife  but  to 
join  the  Sorosis  and  plead  upon  the  platform  for 
her  rights — for  rights,  I  am  sure,  she  never  had. 

But  she  has  not  spirit  enough  for  this,  and  tamely 
submits  to  her  destiny— consoling  herself  meanwhile 
with  her  lap-dog.  Probably  she  estimates  that  it 
takes  two  puppies  to  make  a  man. 

According  to  my  calculation  it  would  take  half  a 
dozen  such  men  as  her  husband  to  make  one  good- 
sized,  lovable,  respectable  man.  And  then  he 
would  have  to  be  moulded  out  of  "  better  clay  "  at 
that. 

Madge  sits  by  the  window,  humming  : 

"  If  I  had  a  little  husband  no  bigger  than  my  thumb," 

at  the  sound  of  which  Aunt  Prim  looks  up  serenely, 
and  advises  Madge  to  think  of  something  else  beside 

husbands.    Madge  laughs  and  saucily  replies  :  "  Oh, 
15 


338          SPARKLES  FROM  SARATOGA. 

dear,  auntie,  I  wasn't  thinking  of  husbands — only 
of  bachelors." 

Aunt  Prim  took  this  as  a  personal  affront,  as 
referring  to  poor  Bachelor  Grumpy,  and  darted 
lightning  flashes  at  poor  Madge  from  behind  her 
spectacles ;  then  giving  her  flounces  a  terrible  shake, 
she  rushed  from  the  room. 

That  Madge  is  a  dreadful  girl !  Aunt  Prim  feels 
so  sorry  for  poor  Grumpy  because  he  has  no  one  to 
keep  his  buttons  in  order.  But  what's  the  use  of 
wasting  pity  on  a  man  ? 

Madge  doesn't  mind  Aunt  Prim's  wrath,  and  rubs 
her  little  hands  gleefully,  for  now  she  can  carry  on 
a  desperate  flirtation  writh  that  handsome  Colonel 
who  is  riding  over  the  green,  with  no  spectacled 
eyes  gazing  horribly  at  her.  Madge  often  remarks 
demurely  that  she  hopes  Aunt  Prim  will  get  mar 
ried  before  next  summer,  to  which  I  devoutly  add 
— Amen  !  It  is  enough  to  break  one's  heart  to  think 
of  bidding  adieu  to  West  Point.  But  the  fates  are 
irrevocable,  and  to-morrow  morning  will  be  sad  with 
our  farewells.  No  more  delightful  drives — no  more 
charming  walks — no  more  romancing  in  the  moon 
light  here,  where  all  Nature  is  romantic,  and  where 
every  hour  inspires  us  with  delight  and  enthusiasm. 
The  eye  never  wearies  of  gazing  upon  those  distant 


FAREWELL.  339 

mountains  which  rise  so  proudly  to  the  sky,  upon  the 
green  smiling  vales  where  only  happiness  seems  to 
dwell,  and  upon  the  broad  blue  river,  which  flows 
majestically  along,  as  though  conscious  of  all  the 
loveliness  which  throngs  its  shores.  The  glowing 
kiss  of  autumn  has  turned  the  crimson  leaves  to 
golden ;  the  sky  is  beautifully,  serenely  blue ;  and 
every  night  the  great  round  moon  comes  slowly  up 
behind  the  hills  and  flings  a  golden  radiance  over 
all. 

Alas !  how  few  there  are  who  open  their  hearts, 
and  dwell  with  a  lover's  eye  upon  the  beautiful 
which  lies  everywhere  around  us  ! 

In  the  halls  of  memory,  where  hang  pictures  of 
the  unforgotten,  the  lovely  scenes  of  West  Point 
will  have  an  honored  place,  and  will  shine  out 
brightly,  never  to  be  hidden  by  the  shadowy  mists 
of  the  past.  And  when  we  are  safely  bivouacked 
in  winter  quarters,  the  sound  of  the  drum,  the 
morning  parade,  the  brilliant  cavalry  charge,  the 
thundering  of  artillery  pealing  from  crag  to  crag, 
and  the  manly  forms  and  pleasant  faces  of  the 
cadets,  will  all  come  back  to  us,  not  like  a  dream — 
but  as  a  vivid  reality. 

And  so  we  bid  farewell  to  its  pleasant  scenes  ;  to 


34:0  6PAKKLES    KROM   SARATOGA. 

its  summer  hours  of  sunlight,  when  the  birds  sang 
and  the  flowers  bloomed  ;  when  every  hour  yielded 
some  new  pleasure,  and  every  day  left  a  pleasant 
memory  to  link  it  to  the  past. 

When  I  remember  all 

The  friends  so  linked  together, 
I've  seen  around  me  fall, 
Like  leaves  in  wintry  weather, 

I  feel  like  one 

Who  treads  alone 
Some  banquet-hall  deserted, 

Whose  lights  are  fled, 

Whose  garlands  dead, 
And  all  but  I  departed.— MooBE. 


THE   END. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


RENEWED  BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


DUE  OCT    6  1969 


DU£/\PR2    1970 


LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAV'r 

Book  Slip-70m-9,'65(F7151s4, 


N°  423973 

PS1924 
Hicks,  J.E.  H73 

Sparkles  from          S7 
Saratoga. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


